The Forgone Trial
by silver rosebud
Summary: Alola: Land of the Living Sun, Moon, and Stars. Or rather, definitely not where Moon is right now. "Currently, you are in England. Do you know where that is?" "Is this some sort of complex prank?" "Are you aware of wizards, Miss Blakesley?" "I thought those were just fairy tales."
1. Friendly Fire

**Chapter One: Friendly Fire**

 _Where in the name of Giratina am I?_

Moon was pissed, which was an annoyingly common occurrence in the last few days for her.

She had been chasing after a group of Galactic sympathisers who had gotten their hands on Aether's wormhole technology. Said group had wanted to open another portal, believing that it would be the key to the perfect new universe their former leader had once envisioned. They had managed to create a wormhole before Moon could stop them, but it had been horrendously unstable and collapsed within seconds. The resulting chaos had blasted everyone—including Moon—away. Moon had fallen unconscious, and had woken up in an unfamiliar forest, the building she had stormed not anywhere close by.

She still had her bag, which contained her six most trusted pokémon, her travelling gear, and enough food, water, and healing items to last her for three months. She did not want to wander around in the woods for three months.

A shiver ran down her spine and through her arms. She pulled her thin coat around her shoulders in response. Wherever she was, it was a lot colder than Alola—then again, almost everywhere was colder than Alola.

 _Can't be Hoenn then. Kanto maybe? Or Johto? Definitely not Sinnoh, it's always snowing there. Maybe I'm between Kalos and Unova, the trees look the same…_

Moon walked for hours, and continued her attempts to determine her location. Rotom had nothing, only giving an error response when she tried to pull up a map.

 _Not in any of the regions then. Neutral territory?_

A part of her realized that, wherever she was, it was nowhere close to any of the towns or cities she knew. Rotom would have been able to direct her to the nearest town if that was the case. But her friend was only able to give her a few non-committal guesses about their location, as well as the occasional remark about needing to recalibrate.

Moon would be fine with wandering around for the day, or even the rest of the week, if it weren't for the fact that—no matter where she looked—she couldn't see any pokémon. There were creatures that _looked_ like pokémon, but there was no uniformity or pattern in them. The birds, the large creatures, the small creatures, and everything else had different markings. Even if they seemed similar, there was something that separated them appearance-wise. Rotom couldn't recognize any of them, either.

 _Where am I?_

The forest thinned out after an hour or two. She checked the sky briefly, noticing the sun hung right above her.

 _Midday? How long was I out?_

She scoured the area. There was a series of hills in the distance, but they didn't seem promising. The young champion would have searched elsewhere if she didn't catch the sudden puffs of smoke rising into the air.

 _Might as well give it a shot._

Moon trekked her way over to the hills. She could hear distant laughter, shouting, and the occasional sound of firecrackers. The smoke rose into the air again, and she grinned.

When she finally made it to the top of the hill, she surveyed the town below her. It was small and oddly formed, like something out of a holiday card. She could see people milling around, wearing a variety of…

 _Cloaks?_

Moon blinked. It was colder than she was used to, but it wasn't that cold. Cloaks certainly seemed like overkill. She shrugged, figuring that it might be traditional clothing for the area.

The young champion made her way down the other side of the hill, towards the village. There was another series of sharp cracks, followed by children running around in puffs of coloured smoke. She smiled to herself. Wherever she went, kids were always being kids, having fun with toys that they wouldn't let their own children play with in twenty years.

She stepped onto what seemed to be the main street, and looked to see if there were any shops she could duck into and ask for directions. Her eyes wandered over the signs outside the shops.

 _Cauldron shops? Wizard wear? Ollivanders Wands?_

Moon froze, suddenly very uncomfortable with her surroundings. She hadn't thought about magic in years. Her father used to tell her stories about wizards and witches before he left. She hadn't seen him since she was eight. Other than the gifts he'd send her for her birthday or the holidays, her father had dropped out of her life.

"Excuse me miss?"

Moon turned around to see a short woman with grey hair and a battered, pointed cap on her head looking at her with a concerned expression.

"Yes?" Moon ventured, wanting to ask for directions but refraining out of politeness.

"Are you alright? You look like…"

"Like I'm out of place?" she responded with a smile, pulling her coat around her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm pretty lost, I'd say."

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile. "That's awful, dear. Any idea where you are?"

"Not really. I saw some signs saying Hogsmeade, but I've never heard of this place."

Something flickered across the kind woman's face, but Moon couldn't figure out what it was before the woman smiled again.

"How about we step inside for a moment and get something to drink? Maybe then we can figure out where you're going?"

Her voice was a bit too tight to be considered friendly. Moon had heard it plenty of times before, when she was speaking with a pesky reporter who wanted her to slip up.

"I don't think anyone here would accept any money I have on me," she brushed off.

The woman shook her head. "I'll get something for you, dear. It's no problem."

Moon opened her mouth to protest again, but the woman placed a hand on her shoulder and started to guide her to a pub. She thought she saw the woman pull something out of her pocket, and there was a flash of light behind them. Before the young girl could question it, she was pulled through the door of the pub and led to a small, secluded table.

"Back in a moment," the woman said as she went to the bar to order. Moon surveyed the room, noting that almost everyone was trying to discretely stare at her. Two were outright glaring at her. She returned a level, completely blank stare—the one that Hau had dubbed her 'Void Look'—until they became uncomfortable and returned to their drinks.

 _Serves them right._

The grey-haired woman returned with two frothy mugs of a strange drink Moon didn't recognize.

"Thanks," the young champion said gratefully, and cautiously took a sip from the warm glass. It tasted sweet, almost like butterscotch, and nothing like the beer Blue had once dared her to drink.

"It's alright, dear," the woman replied. "Now, I don't suppose you could tell me how you arrived here in Hogsmeade?"

"I walked here."

"From where?"

"There's this forest—or wooded area, I don't know—a fair distance away from the hills."

"And what were you doing in that forest?"

"I woke up there. Not entirely sure why."

The woman nodded. "Do you remember anything before that?"

"Err…"

Moon remembered a fair amount of what transpired—the chase, the portal, the resulting explosion—but she wasn't exactly willing to share that with a complete stranger.

"A bit."

The woman nodded again. Whether she sensed Moon's hesitancy or just figured whatever happened wasn't important enough to mention, Moon didn't know. She took another sip of her drink before setting it aside.

"Terribly sorry for my manners, ma'am," the young champion apologized, "but I never asked for your name."

"Pomona Sprout, dear. And you are?"

"Moon Blakesley," she said, extending her hand for a shake. "Nice to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," Pomona replied, although there was a note of something—regret?—that made Moon pause.

The pub door swung shut, startling the teenager. She scanned the room quickly, and she noticed that the pub had practically emptied, save the two newcomers. She glanced towards the bar, only to see that the bartender was nowhere in sight. On top of that, the two men were walking towards their table and not the bar.

Moon turned back to Pomona, who was giving her an apologetic look.

"Sorry, dear."

She opened her mouth to ask what was going on when two flashes of scarlet light, each half a second apart, caught her off-guard. Something collided with her, knocking her back viciously. Her head collided with the wall. Pomona was yelling something, but the words became garbled by the time they reached Moon's ears. Her eyes sluggishly rolled over to where the two men and the woman were standing. It looked like Pomona was giving the verbal thrashing of a lifetime, but the sound was drowned out by an incessant humming that was growing louder with every passing second. Her eyelids began to slide shut against her will as her vision became grey around the edges.

A hand pressed against her free shoulder, and another clenched around her arm. Someone pulled her back from the wall roughly, but Moon couldn't find the strength to shrug them off. The person moved their arm around her waist and lifted her up. Her head lolled in the air until she was brought against a broad chest, held as though she were an infant. The person moved her head to rest on their shoulder. Another figure moved into Moon's rapidly fading line of sight, and she noticed the blur of grey hair that belonged to Pomona. The woman was trying to tell her something, but Moon's hearing was gone, soon followed by her vision, and finally, her consciousness.

 **So, this is the first story I've posted in a while. Most of the writing I have done in the past several years is crossover stories (like this one), and I've felt like none of it is ever *good* enough to post. I usually end up working on twelve other stories and forgetting what I've already written, only to find a story months later, read it, add a sentence, and then do something else.**

 **However, this story is one I feel confident about. I have a few other chapters written and plenty of ideas to work with, so if you enjoyed the first chapter, there's more coming.**

 **This story takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban, in case you are wondering. Some scenes in the future will be based around the events of the book. There will be plenty of alternate events and new scenes as well.**

 **I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **-Silver**


	2. Mungo's and Magic

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon**

 **Chapter Two: Mungo's and Magic**

"Completely unnecessary… wasn't even a threat…"

Moon slowly returned to consciousness, and wished that she hadn't. Her head pounded horribly, and her shoulder burned. Her throat was scratchy and dry, as though it were made of cotton.

"I think she's waking up," said a familiar female voice.

"That's unusual for being hit by two stunners," remarked a different, aged male voice. "Although Mister Travers never was the most proficient with that spell…"

Moon pried her eyes open and blinked at the spotless ceiling above her. She attempted to sit up, but both her arm and her head protested. She sank back into her pillow with a groan and let her eyes shut again. The man who had just spoken chuckled.

"Where am I?" she mumbled.

"St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," the male voice replied.

"What?"

Another laugh. "I'm afraid, Miss Blakesley, that there's been a lot of commotion regarding your trip to Hogsmeade."

"Why is that?"

"Are you aware of wizards, Miss Blakesley?"

Her eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Wizards. Witches. Magic."

"I thought those were just fairy tales."

"Magic is very real," the man told her.

"Well, apparently so, if I'm actually in a magical hospital."

"I'm so sorry about this," the woman said, and Moon realized that it was Pomona. "I didn't expect those two Hit Wizards to attack you like that."

"What were you expecting then?" Moon questioned.

"For them to take you to the ministry and figure out where you're supposed to be, then send you on your way. Muggles aren't supposed to know about magic."

"Muggles?"

"Non-magic folk," the man supplied. "Although, if proper procedures had been followed, we wouldn't have been able to discover the truth."

"What truth?"

"Miss Blakesley, are you aware that you're a witch?"

A pause.

"I'm a what?" Moon asked slowly, sure that she had misheard.

"Are you aware that you are a witch?"

"I… that makes no sense."

Another laugh. "I'm sure this is a surprise for you."

"I can't be a witch. I'd know, wouldn't I?"

"Has anything strange ever happened to you? Something that you could never explain?"

Plenty of strange things had happened in her thirteen years of life, and none of it was unexplainable.

"It would be something small," Pomona explained. "One-time occurrences or mishaps that you brushed off."

"There's…"

 _Wait._

There had been some things. Lightbulbs exploding when she got angry. Stuff floating after a particularly bad nightmare. Her favourite stuffed Lillipup miraculously being stitched up after she had accidently torn it. All of which had been written off as the antics of her mother's Espeon, who was particularly fond of Moon.

She sat up this time, ignoring the pain in her arm, and stared at the two adults with sharp blue eyes.

"You recall something?" the man—who had a ridiculously long beard and an equally ridiculous cloak—asked with a knowing grin. Moon nodded, not trusting her voice immediately after her revelation.

"Well," the elderly man said cheerfully, "that settles that, but it raises more questions than it answers."

"How so?" Moon queried.

"How old are you, Miss Blakesley?"

"I turn thirteen on the first of August," she replied.

"In two days, then," the man confirmed. Moon hadn't realized the day was so close. "But then, surely you must have gotten a letter for attending school?"

"There's wizard schools?" she asked incredulously.

"In practically every country. Unless you grew up completely isolated from the world, you should have been sent a letter regarding your attendance to one of the schools."

Moon shook her head. "Never received anything like that."

"May I ask what country you live in?"

"Alola, but I grew up in Kanto."

The two adults exchanged a look that made Moon uneasy. Pomona stood up from her chair, brushing specks of dirt off of her clothes.

"I really should be heading home. My plants won't tend themselves—not all of them, anyway. Goodbye, Moon, Albus."

The man nodded sagely as she scuttled out of the room. He turned back to the girl lying in the hospital bed.

"Now," he said, "could you possibly restate the names of those countries?"

"Alola and Kanto," she repeated. The man paused, and then shook his head.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of such countries."

"What?" Moon blurted. "Alola I get, but how can you not know of Kanto? It's the biggest region there is!"

"Region?"

"Yeah, region," she restated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Speaking of which, which region is this anyway? I thought it was Unova but it doesn't have small towns like Hogsmeade."

He blinked. Several seconds passed before he let out a long sigh.

"I'm afraid, Miss Blakesley, that you're a long way from home."

"Well, obviously," she scoffed.

"Currently, you are in England. Do you know where that is?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this some sort of complex prank?"

"Not at all."

"I've never heard of this place."

"What about Britain?" the man pressed. "The United Kingdom?"

"Where and what now?" she responded. "Look, if this is your idea of a joke, it's really not funny—"

"I can assure you that I am not joking."

His voice was so serious for one dressed in a cloak with twinkling stars that Moon found herself believing him.

"What were you doing before you woke up in the forest?" he questioned. "And don't leave anything out, for both our sakes."

She told him of the gang, the theft, the chase, and the massive failure that resulted in an explosion. Any time she tried to simplify something or leave out a detail, the man's bright blue eyes seemed to pierce her, as though he could tell when she was omitting something. She corrected herself constantly to keep that prying glare away as long as possible.

"And this… wormhole technology… is it possible for it to work?" the man asked after she finished her rambling.

"Yeah. It's worked in the past, so if you had enough skill and power, you could open a portal."

"Have you considered the possibility that these Galactic people might have managed to create a portal, if only briefly?"

Moon paused. "Are you suggesting that I'm in some alternate dimension?"

"Possibly."

She huffed. "It'd make sense. Would explain why my pokédex isn't pulling out a map."

"Your pokédex, did you say?"

"Short for pokémon codex."

"Pokémon?"

"Short for pocket monster," she said automatically. Something must have jolted her, because she tensed and started scanning the room frantically.

"My bag! What happened to my bag?"

"It's been placed in the cabinet next to you," the man replied. "It was searched earlier, but nothing was confiscated."

Her head whipped around to the cabinet drawer. With no regard for her injuries, she pulled open the drawer and took out her bag. She retrieved six small red and white balls and sighed in relief.

"They're still here… thank goodness…"

"Are those important?" the man asked gently.

"They're my pokémon."

"These pokémon… are marbles?"

A bark of laughter escaped her. "No, pokémon live in these 'marbles', as you call them. Pokémon can't always walk everywhere, so they stay in pokéballs instead."

"I see. Would it be possible for me to see one?"

"This room's a bit cramped… but, I suppose…"

Moon plucked a seemingly random ball out of the six, and tapped it with her thumb. The ball expanded to fit her entire palm. She pressed the button in the centre, resulting in the ball breaking open as a jet of light shot out. A creature made entirely out of metal, with a bright red eye and magnets for hands, was floating in the air a second later.

" _Bre-briit!"_

"This right here is Magnezone," Moon said conversationally. "The smallest of my team, and one of the oldest."

"And how old would that be?"

"Almost two years since I caught them."

"Caught?"

"The way trainers—people who work alongside pokémon—recruit pokémon is through battling them and catching them with pokéballs. If the pokémon is convinced the person is worthwhile, they stay inside the pokéball. If not, they break out."

"I see," the man said warily. "It doesn't impede the creature's will?"

"Some pokéballs are better suited for catching pokémon than others, but most could be broken out of if the pokémon truly did not wish to join the trainer. The only exception is the Master Ball, which is extremely hard to obtain."

The man nodded. "I suppose, if that's the case, I can't disapprove."

Moon recalled Magnezone and shrank the ball back down to the size of a marble.

The man folded his arms, and a look of contemplation crossed his face. "If you are from another world, then how are you a witch? Or at least magical enough to walk past the wards of Hogsmeade?"

"Well, how do witches normally pop up?"

"Every wizard or witch is born with their magic. In most cases, one or both parents is also magical, but there are exceptions."

Memories of her mother and father, back before the big fight, resurfaced. "Are you saying one of my parents is magical?"

"I don't believe so," he said slowly, "but I couldn't be sure. If you gave me their names, I could try to search to see if there is any link to any of the wizarding families, but the chance is slim."

Moon took the chance anyway, and gave him the names of her parents. His blue eyes widened in shock, and for a moment he was stunned into complete silence.

"He… everyone thought he was dead…"

"You know my dad?"

The man nodded sadly. "He was a student of mine once. He vanished during the war—not that you'd know about the war…"

He trailed off for a moment, before looking at her oddly. "You don't share a family name with him. Why is that?"

"My parents divorced when I was eight. It was all very messy. My mother switched back to her maiden name and legally changed mine as well."

"And so you've gone by Moon Blakesley ever since?"

"Yup."

Something sparkled in the old man's eye, but Moon kept herself from commenting on it. He stood up, reaching out a hand for her to shake.

"It's been wonderful talking to you, Miss Blakesley."

"Likewise, Mister…"

The man chuckled, "My apologies. My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of Britain's wizarding school, Hogwarts."

"Nice to meet you, sir," she said pleasantly, taking his hand to shake.

"I regret to say that I must be off. I'll be back tomorrow to discuss some options with you regarding your current situation."

"Wait. I'm staying here tonight?"

Dumbledore's eyes had that look Moon so well, the one that every adult got when they were speaking with children. Her previous opinion that the man was eccentric, but reasonable, dimmed.

"You were hit by two stunning spells simultaneously. Most wizards and witches are able to handle having one cast on them at a time, but not two. Your head was also injured when you were stunned. It is best that you remain here for the night, so that if there are any problems, there are people equipped to handle them."

Moon figured it had less to do with her health and more to do with him needing time to set something up, but she wasn't prepared to confront him about it.

"Well, I don't have many options here, I guess," she grinned, although her voice lacked the usual cheer. "Thanks for all of this."

"Not a problem, my dear. Not a problem at all."

 **Some people asked why no one reacted to Rotom. Let's just say that Rotom-dex was in the bag.**

 **I'll try to be updating every Sunday, as I have plenty of chapters pre-written. I just need to edit them. They vary in length, but I try to keep them above 1000 words each.**

 **Hope everyone has a good week!**

 **-Silver**


	3. Safe Option

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon**

 **Chapter Three: Safe Option**

Moon swirled the sad excuse for oatmeal around in the bowl, somewhat irritated that she was confined to a hospital room. She had never liked hospitals, and being in a magical one made no difference.

 _I'd have thought they'd make better food, at least_ , she thought as the watery cereal dripped off of her spoon. She was about to reach for her bag and take some of the food she had stored in there when the door swung open.

"Professor Dumbledore," she greeted.

"Miss Blakesley. I trust that you slept well?"

She had, after one of the healers insisted she drink some weird medicine she could only assume was a sedative of some sort.

"Well enough."

"Good, good," the man murmured as he sat in the same chair as the previous night. "Being well rested is always important."

She frowned, almost working up the courage to ask why he was dawdling with small talk when he spoke again.

"Regarding your current situation, I have decided that the only safe option is to have you attend Hogwarts."

"Excuse me?" Moon uttered lowly, dropping her spoon into the bowl.

"Until we find a way for you to return home, you have nowhere to go. Given that you're still young enough to be a student, it would be best if you were to reside at Hogwarts and learn magic until a way back is discovered."

"Didn't you say that students start attending when they're eleven?" she questioned. "I'm two years behind everyone else my age, and it'd be difficult to slip me in with the first years."

"Correct. Instead, you will be given private tutoring sessions during August and, when school starts, will be given free reign as to what you do and don't study."

She raised an eyebrow at this. "Do all students have this much freedom?"

"No, but you are a unique case. I can't expect that you'll want to continue your education when a way back to your home is discovered. Convincing you to sit through lectures doesn't seem to be a good use of my energy."

"Yet you insist I stay there," she muttered. "Why bother giving me private lessons at all? Why not say that I just stay hidden at your school and don't cause issues?"

"You don't seem to be the type who can stay hidden and not cause issues," he grinned. "Even if you were, the castle isn't the best place for hiding. Almost anyone could find you. The portraits are terribly chatty."

"What?"

"You'll learn soon enough," he reassured. "If you're willing, we can leave within the hour."

Moon glanced down at her breakfast and eagerly set it aside. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and headed for the adjoining bathroom with her bag in tow.

Once the door was shut, she stripped herself of her hospital pyjamas and changed into capris and a t-shirt. She contemplated redoing the romantic tuck she had been sporting, but eventually let her hair unravel. It fell past her shoulders, and she scowled. Long hair was always an inconvenience. She hastily pulled her hair into a messy ponytail and left it at that.

She stepped out of the bathroom. Dumbledore and one of the healers had been having a civil conversation until she returned. A beat of silence passed before the healer collected herself.

"Miss Blakesley, I need to do one final check before you are released, so if you could take a seat for a moment…"

Moon sat on the edge of the bed, keeping her eyes on the wand that the healer was waving around in front of her. She still was awed by the fact that magic was real, but was reasonably wary of it considering that magic was the reason she ended up hospitalized. She watched the glowing violet and aquamarine lights the wand emitted with fascination. Growing up in a world where the wildlife spewed fire and carrying an entire house's worth of supplies in a purse was entirely plausible may have eased her transition into the magical world, but that didn't mean she wasn't just as intrigued as any newcomer.

"Seems to me you're ready to go," the healer chirped. Moon slid off the bed, eager to leave.

"Thank you very much, Camilla," Dumbledore said. "I do so hope your brother's shop turns out well."

"Thanks, professor," the young healer replied.

Moon itched to get out of there as quickly as possible, but there were several papers that were shoved in front of her requesting her signature. She scribbled her name as rapidly as possible while Dumbledore chatted with the healer.

 _Come on, come on, come on…!_

She set the forms down slightly harder than necessary. The noise jolted the two adults from their small talk. Camilla scanned the forms and nodded.

"Everything's in working order. Have a nice day, you two,"

"And you as well," Moon replied before Dumbledore could. The healer swept out of the room with the forms, leaving the other two alone.

"Excited to see Hogwarts, I presume?" the man queried.

"Mostly to just get out of here."

"Just as well, I suppose. We won't be heading for Hogwarts right away, of course. We'll be needing to get you some supplies."

"Supplies?"

"A wand, for starters," he explained, "and perhaps some robes. A cauldron, of course…"

"I don't know if you know this, but I don't have any acceptable currency."

"A trip to Gringotts should fix that," he answered with a smile. "The bank is run by goblins. Very proud folk, but very reasonable and willing to barter if you have something worth their while."

She grimaced internally. Poké was rather pretty, but didn't have much value overall. She was more than willing to sell off some of the pearls she had collected and stored in case of emergency, but she always thought that the situation that required her to peddle them would be more… hazardous.

Dumbledore led her out of the hospital room, down through the corridors, and out of the main lobby. Moon didn't know whether to be shocked or not when they ended up outside a department store rather than a hospital.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Follow me, please," Dumbledore ordered. He started walking down the street, and Moon tailed him until he went into an alleyway.

"Are you kidding me?"

"It's best if magic is performed where muggles cannot see it," he explained, ushering her into the alley.

"What sort of magic?" she asked as she continued following him.

"It's called Apparition. Wizards have many methods of travelling, but this one requires the least explanation. At least, Side-Along Apparition isn't too complicated, although it is a bit uncomfortable."

He offered his arm to her, and the second she grasped his arm, she was thrown into the most disorienting form of teleportation she had ever experienced. Unlike the tingly, crawl-up-your-skeleton sensation she was used to, Apparition was more like beings squeezed through a tube rolling down a hill. When they arrived at their destination, Moon's legs gave out beneath her, and she braced herself with her arms to protect her head.

"Could you warn me next time?" she grumbled as she brushed off the gravel and dirt that stuck to her.

"Perhaps."

Dumbledore started walking again, and the young champion tried to keep up. There were clusters of people in robes milling about the street. Even though Dumbledore was sporting lemon yellow robes, Moon felt like she was the one out of place with her typical streetwear.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Miss Blakesley," Dumbledore said without looking at her. Moon almost tripped at the ridiculous name, but managed to keep her bearings.

They walked through the street toward an ancient structure that Moon assumed was the bank. She noticed that the pods of wizards and witches were stopping and staring at the two of them and occasionally whispering, but she didn't care enough to fuss over it.

The great marble building was unlike anything Moon had ever seen. It was obviously old, but it was well cared for. She was taken by the large bronze doors, and only mildly surprised by the creature guarding them.

 _A goblin._

The guard opened the doors begrudgingly, eyeing Moon's choice of clothes with distaste. The hall Dumbledore led her into contained another set of doors made of silver rather than bronze, and with a rather frightening (but rhyming) warning about theft.

 _Goblins are not to be crossed._

More goblins were milling about the lobby, and there were more wizards at the front desk. Thankfully, one till was open. Moon followed Dumbledore to the till, trying to remain as collected as possible in the unfamiliar building. The goblin gave a harsh grin as they approached, although whether it was intentionally intimidating or not, Moon wasn't sure.

"A little strange to see you guiding a muggle-born, Dumbledore," the goblin drawled.

"It is a unique situation, Gornuk," the old wizard replied. "One that requires… delicate handling."

The goblin raised an eyebrow before stepping down from his stool. He opened a side gate and led the two down a hallway to a secluded room. It was small but well furnished, and Moon's positive perception of the place was bolstered.

"Exactly why is this situation so sensitive?" Gornuk enquired.

"Miss Blakesley here isn't a muggle-born. She has had… a surprisingly eventful journey here to Britain, and we recently discovered her heritage.

"Do tell," the goblin probed, "and leave nothing out."

Moon sat back as Dumbledore relayed the entire story to the goblin, only speaking up to correct him on a few points. By the end of the tale, Gornuk seemed heavily intrigued.

"That's a marvellous story there," the goblin smirked, "but if you wish to access your family vault, you need a key, or a blood test for confirmation."

"Actually," Moon said, "I was wondering if it would be possible to sell some stuff of mine. I don't exactly wish to take money from my family vault without permission."

"This isn't a pawn shop," Gornuk sneered.

"I know, but I thought you might be interested in what I have to offer."

The sneer never left his face, but the goblin jerked his head in confirmation. Moon opened her bag and dug through it until she found what she was looking for; pearls, both large and small, some separate and some on strings. Gornuk's former distaste turned to rapt interest. He took the precious stones from her, evaluating them with a critical eye.

"Yes… these are far better than what I was expecting," he muttered. He met the young champion's gaze fiercely. "Are you intending to barter?"

"Not really. What do you think they're worth?"

The goblin turned his attention back to the pearls. "For all of them, I'd say… six hundred galleons."

Moon had no idea what that meant, but Dumbledore nodded at her, and so she assumed that was a fair price. "Six hundred galleons it is then."

Within ten minutes, they were out of Gringotts, and Moon was holding a cloth bag containing the gold pieces tightly. She slipped it into her purse so she wouldn't be carrying around anything unnecessary.

"Where to next?" she asked.

"I suppose our next stop should be Ollivanders…"

He led her to a semi-run down building with a sign in peeling gold letters that stated the shop had been around for nearly a millennium and a half. The door clanged against a bell as the two walked in. A man returned from a back room holding a stack of boxes.

"Professor Dumbledore. It has been far too long since I last saw you.

"Indeed, Garrick. But I did not come here for a simple chat, unfortunately."

The man's silver eyes slid over to Moon. "A new student? Most witches come here a couple years earlier than you have."

"Special circumstances," she responded. That did not stop him from wondering out loud.

"You certainly have a familiar look to you," he pondered. "What is your name?"

"Moon Blakesley."

"Strange… very strange…"

Ollivander turned back to Dumbledore. "She wouldn't happen to be related to…"

"Yes, but it's not what you're thinking."

"She looks so much like him."

"They both take after their father, I suppose."

Moon's eyes widened considerably, and her lips pursed. She glared at Dumbledore harshly, but he only shook his head in response.

 _Not now._

"Yes, yes," the wand maker muttered. "Let's see… what would work for you…?"

He set down the boxes he was carrying and opened one seemingly at random. "Cypress. Unicorn hair. Twelve inches, somewhat bendy."

He handed the young girl the wand. "Go on, give it a wave."

She flicked the wand, and a few promising sparks shot out, but fizzled and died in less than a second. Ollivander took the wand back.

"Beech," he said as he handed her a new wand, "and dragon heartstring. Nine and a half inches."

This one actually leapt out of her hand, clattering against the countertop when it landed.

"Definitely not either of those then. Rowan perhaps. And unicorn hair…"

Another wand was handed to her. It emitted several bright flashes like a camera. Ollivander was not convinced.

"Closer. Unicorn hair seems to favour you, but what wood…?"

He went to the back shelves, rummaging through different boxes, making various noises of disapproval. It wasn't until he pulled out a box that was covered in a fine layer of dust that he decided to return.

"Apple, unicorn hair, eleven inches precisely. Rigid."

Moon noticed the difference immediately. The wand fit perfectly in her hand; a seamless piece of wood separated by iron rings denoting the handle portion, and runes carved into the iron bands. A warm sensation ran up her arm, and the idea that she wouldn't ever be using a wand after she went home disappeared. This was something she wanted to keep.

She waved the wand, sending out a billowing cloud of pink smoke. Ollivander gave an approving nod.

"Very well, Miss Blakesley, very well indeed."

She handed him the seven galleons for the wand, and exited the store alongside Dumbledore. She turned to him immediately, the previous remarks not forgotten.

"What did you mean, 'their father'?" she asked harshly.

"Not here, Miss Blakesley," he replied.

"Why not here?"

"We are out in the open, where anyone could hear us, and the topic is not something you would want anyone overhearing. We'll discuss it when we arrive at Hogwarts."

"I thought you said the portraits were chatty?" she countered. The old wizard almost seemed impressed.

"So you were listening earlier."

"Hard to forget something like talking portraits."

"Yes, I suppose that would be memorable if you are not used to them," he said heartily. "The portraits do tend to chat with each other, but they don't make everyone's secrets known. If I tell them to keep quiet about your bloodline, they will. Now come along, there are plenty of other things we need to get done."

Moon got the feeling that she had just been manipulated by the old wizard somehow.

 **Any guesses as to who Moon's father could be?**

 **I know it's a bit early, but I'm uploading this today rather than on Sunday for a few reasons. I have many school projects to work on, and I want to focus on them over the weekend without having to worry about uploading the chapter. Chapter Four will most likely be uploaded on the regular schedule, so nine days from now.**

 **Update: Realized I forgot a chapter title. Added one in.**

 **Also update: There is a small hint as to who Moon is related to in the Ollivanders scene. See if you can figure it out.**

 **Please leave your thoughts/comments in a review.**

 **Hope everyone has a good weekend!**


	4. Family

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon**

 **Chapter Four: Family**

What might have been an otherwise pleasant shopping trip was overshadowed by the approaching conversation. Moon couldn't bring herself to be excited over getting robes, books, cauldrons, or whatever else Dumbledore had her purchase in Diagon Alley. The afternoon became a blur after she obtained her wand, her thoughts circling around one central idea.

 _Their father. Their. Plural. Two or more._

She had been an only child for as long as she could remember. Her mother never remarried, and she never heard of her father finding anyone else. She had seen her classmates in primary school, ignoring their siblings, teasing them relentlessly, or playing with them at one or the other's hesitance, and she wished that she could have a brother or sister. It was a strange desire in retrospect—she didn't want to be teased or bullied or flat out ignored by someone she was related to—but she always wanted a sibling.

Now, like some peculiar genie wish, she was getting what she wanted in a way she hadn't asked for.

A sibling, or rather a half-sibling, and most likely someone much older than her. Someone who had grown up knowing they were a wizard, and someone who knew much more about their father than she did. Someone who, in all likelihood, wouldn't be interested in someone like her at all.

She'd never admit it, but the thought of rejection made her incredibly sad.

They left Diagon Alley by Disapparating, and Moon managed to stay on her feet. She looked at her new surroundings, and frowned.

"Hogsmeade?"

"It's impossible to Apparate into Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained. "I've sent for a carriage to retrieve you."

"Just me?"

"I will be taking a different route back to the castle."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a carriage being led by nothing she could see went over the small hill that had blocked it from their view.

"Right on time, then."

He opened the carriage door for the young girl. She placed her shopping bags in first, keeping her own personal bag close to her, and slid into the cushioned seat. The door shut behind her, and she could hear Dumbledore rap his knuckles against the carriage.

The carriage lurched forward, and the package containing her new cauldron would have slid off of the seat if Moon had not blocked it. The bag of robes fell down, but that was the only thing she could not save. She looked out the window to see Dumbledore heading towards the same pub that she had gone to the day before.

Just a day before, she had been chasing criminals. She had been a champion, the first of Alola, the one chosen by Tapu Koko to wear a Z-Ring for as long as she had been a trainer. Now, she was a witch, heading off to the school her father (and presumably her sibling) had once attended.

She pulled out her brand new wand and studied it intently. There were so many questions she needed answered. Did her father ever suspect she might be a witch? Did her mother know about magic? Did her mother know about her sibling? Who was this sibling of hers anyway, and why was it so crucial that Dumbledore tell her when no one could overhear them?

Her train of thought carried on for the entire ride. Moon was oblivious to her surroundings until the carriage jolted to a stop and she once again had to save her cauldron. A thick book clattered onto the floor, and she picked it up with a sigh. Her copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ had a noticeable crease on the front cover now.

Someone knocked on the carriage door twice, but opened it without asking for permission. Moon was greeted by the sight of a man that was certainly taller than ten feet.

"We bin expectin' yeh, Miss Blakesley," the giant man greeted. "Come along now, leave yer stuff there, yeh'll get it back later."

She reluctantly left her purchases inside the carriage, but kept her bag strapped to her shoulder.

"My name's Hagrid, by th' way. Keeper of keys and grounds here a' Hogwarts."

"Nice to meet you, sir," she greeted with a friendly smile.

"No need ter call me sir. Hagrid'll do just fine."

When she finally saw Hogwarts for the first time, her mouth dropped open. She had seen palaces in Kalos, and manors over every single region, but all of them paled to the marvellous castle that was a school.

"Woah."

Whatever she had been expecting when she heard the word 'castle', it certainly hadn't been this.

"Firs' years usually get here by boat. Very memorable. Dumbledore told me yeh never got yer letter, though," Hagrid stated. "Real shame, tha' is."

Moon nodded, although she didn't really agree. Even if, by some miracle, she had figured out that she was a witch before she was eleven and did attend Hogwarts, everything with the Aether Foundation, Team Skull, and the Ultra Beasts would have gone on without her. Chances were things wouldn't have ended as nicely as they had.

 _A town raided, a family shattered, and a woman nearly killed._

The doors swung open as they approached. Moon saw a lone figure—a woman dressed in tartan—standing on the top of the staircase facing the entrance.

"Nice ter see yeh, Professor McGonagall."

"Likewise, Hagrid," the woman responded. "Is this Miss Blakesley here?"

"Yes," Moon replied.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Blakesley. The headmaster has requested your presence in his office. I'll show you the way."

She switched from following the giant to following the stern professor, and had trouble keeping her focus as they swept through the halls of the castle. The portraits did, as Dumbledore said, chatter.

" _Students already?"_

" _There's only one, you fish brain!"_

" _No need to get snappy!"_

" _Too old for a first year."_

" _Well she can't be a teacher, can she?"_

"Don't pay any attention to them for now," McGonagall advised, and many of the portraits sputtered. A few swore. They eventually stood in front of a gargoyle statue.

"Crystallised Pineapple," the old woman said clearly. The statue moved away to reveal a moving staircase. After a rather disorienting trip up, the two witches stepped into an office that was in complete disarray. Stuff was piled on every surface, whether it be stacks of papers, books, or metal trinkets that seemed to serve no real purpose other than for decoration. Portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses hung on the walls, whispering to each other or ignoring the world completely.

"Glad to see you have arrived safely," a voice said cheerfully, and Moon looked over to see Dumbledore fiddling with one of the contraptions he had. "Was the trip enjoyable?"

"I suppose," the young champion said. The sound of the gargoyle statue sliding back into place made her jump, and she looked glanced around the room.

 _When did that professor leave?_

"Minerva has plenty of work to do," Dumbledore said, correctly guessing her thoughts. "As interested in your case as she may be, she still has duties as the deputy headmistress."

The old wizard glided over to the main desk in the room and sat in the chair. Moon sat on the bench opposite him.

"There are plenty of things you will need to know before your education can properly begin," he started. Moon's jaw clenched in frustration, and he smiled. "Of course, there is one pressing matter that needs to be addressed. Your family."

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday that I had a brother?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought that it would be too much stress for one day, especially in the state you were in."

"I was fine."

"You were hit by two hexes and received a concussion as a result," he chided. "Not considering the weight of the other revelations, you were in no state to be told something like that."

"So you just decided you'd hide the fact I had a brother."

"I would have told you when you arrived, regardless of what Ollivander said," he stated. "Nevertheless, you have been able to figure out a fair bit on your own."

"It wasn't that difficult," Moon said. "Given what you and Ollivander said, it was pretty easy to figure out that I had an older brother."

"How so?"

"Ollivander said I looked like _him_ , and you said we both take after our father. So it's a simple step to believing I have a brother. The earlier parts of the discussion imply that Ollivander originally thought I was this man's daughter, so I'm guessing this mysterious brother of mine is at least eighteen years older than me. I'm also guessing something rather horrible happened to him, given that you refused to talk about him in public and my dad never mentioned him, but you referred to him in present-tense, so I think he's still alive."

A slow grin spread across the old wizard's face. "Very perceptive, Miss Blakesley. Your guesses are rather accurate.

"This is a fairly long story, but I think it is one you need to hear. Whatever I say shall not become public knowledge, understand?"

Moon nodded.

"Very well. Let me tell you about your brother, Remus Lupin…"

 **So:**

 **I have been leaving a few small hints in the previous chapters as to who Moon is related to. To confirm: her father is Lyall Lupin, and Remus is her half-brother.**

 **This deviates from canon slightly, as we don't know much about Lyall. He reportedly offered Remus a place to live after the war, but seeing as Remus didn't take the offer, I'm switching that.**

 **I don't want to give too much away yet, as I'll reveal more about this throughout the story (remember, this story takes place during PoA. Confrontation is inevitable here).**

 **Finals are on the horizon, so I'll try to stay on top of updates. I won't be getting much writing done, I imagine.**

 **Hope everyone enjoys their week! And good luck to those who have exams like I do!**


	5. Night

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Five: Night**

 _My brother's a werewolf_.

The conversation was long over, but Moon was still mulling over its contents. Dumbledore had gone over every detail—how her brother was bitten, how he was allowed into the school regardless, how he had made friends with a select few people who had accepted his condition and how every single one of those people had been torn away from him.

" _He was distraught,"_ Dumbledore had said. _"He left not long after the funerals. I haven't heard much from him since, only a few messages saying that he is alive and not to worry."_

Twenty years older than her. A werewolf. Has been living on the fringes of society for years. All of his friends are dead or in prison. A werewolf. Too ashamed to ask for help after everything that was done to make his life more endurable. A werewolf.

 _A werewolf._

She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Moon had been so focused on the story of her brother that the rest of the conversation had been blurred. She remembered Dumbledore explaining the different houses, what sort of lessons she could be expecting, and dozens of other pieces of information that she had absorbed, but not actually listened to.

What did being a werewolf mean? It was obviously not something one would wish to be, given the way the headmaster describe her brother's fear and shame of his condition. Was it painful to transform? When was it contagious? How many of the rumours about werewolves were true?"

Moon snarled in frustration as she fell back against the four poster bed. Her guest room was rather spacious. Almost too spacious to actually fit inside the actual castle. She wondered if there were spells that fit larger spaces in smaller areas in a similar way to the way her bag or her pokéballs did. There was enough room to let her pokémon out, but she didn't feel up to giving an explanation to her team just yet. She was exhausted, angry, upset, and a billion other things, and she swore she could hear her mentor's best friend, Blue, joking about mood swings.

 _Don't think about them don't think about them they're too far away don't think about them._

"Moon?"

She jumped back into a sitting position, and sighed in relief when she saw the speaker.

"Rotom. You scared me."

"My apologiezz. I haven't been able to match our location on the world map."

"We're not on the world map," she muttered.

"Zzt? How iz that possible?"

"It's like that time we were in Ultra Space, except there's people here and not parasitic jellyfish."

"I am still fully operational."

"I can see that. I meant that, whatever those bastards did, it sent us to an alternate dimension."

"Zzt? What dimension? Are we stuck here?"

"I don't know the name of the dimension," she snapped, "and yes, we are stuck here until someone figures out a way to get us back."

"We're all stuck here?"

"Yes."

"Even the beasts?"

Moon froze. Slowly, almost mechanically, she dug into her purse. She retracted her hand, tightly clenching the ten beast balls she had.

 _Shit_

The Ultra Beasts didn't count as pokémon, and so when Moon captured them on orders from the International Police, they weren't sent to the PC storage. She kept them close by at all times, never sending them out unless she was sure she wasn't being watched. She hadn't intended to bring them on the chase, but they had been in the bag since she had taken them out to play the night before.

In some ways, it was good that she had them with her. If anyone searched her rooms, the Ultra Beasts wouldn't accidently be discovered and taken away for experimentation like the original plan called for. On the other hand, her ability to let them walk around freely for brief periods of time had disappeared. Her pokémon could fit in the room one at a time, but the beasts were simply too big.

She dropped the balls back into the bag, whispering an apology as she did so. Unless something drastic happened, she'd have to keep them all in their beast balls until they returned home.

"I hate this," she moaned. "I'd take Hau dragging me out for malasada or Gladion acting all edgy again over this."

"You don't like malasada?"

"Not after eating ten in one day," Moon groaned. "And that's not the point."

"You don't know how to get back home?" Rotom asked.

"People say they'll work on it, but I have no idea if they have any idea what to look for without the tech. They want me to be their definition of what a thirteen year old is, they won't take advice from me, I'm sure of it. Unless someone from our side is working on it, we're stuck here."

Aside from the small clicks and buzzes that Rotom made, the room was silent.

"It won't be forever," Rotom promised. "It's statistically impossible."

"The people here—"

"Our friendz back home will notice. They have the toolz needed to find us."

Moon let out another breath. "Yeah. You're right, we can't be stuck here forever."

"That'z the spirit!"

She laughed half-heartedly as Rotom tucked itself back inside her bag to sleep. The mischievous ghost had always lifted her spirits when things got rough.

"They'll find me," she whispered to herself. "One way or another, I'll be going home."

She changed into the pyjamas she had brought with her and tucked herself into bed. Even with the candles blown out, the room was brighter than she was used to. Starlight flooded through the narrow window on the wall her bed was pressed against. She stared out the window, watching the night sky.

 _The stars look different here._

She stared at the new night sky for an hour, taking in the sight that was so familiar and so foreign at the same time. At the league base on top of Mount Lanakila, stars blanketed the sky. She was amazed the first time she saw it, as the sky had always been blurred by city lights.

Her eyes lazily followed a cloud as it drifted just below the shining moon. She saw that the moon was nearly full. She sat up and yanked the heavy velvet curtain across the window, shutting the room in complete darkness. Moon pulled the blanket up to her chin and turned her back to the wall, trying to ignore the idea of her brother suffering somewhere, completely alone.

 **Short chapter today, hope you guys don't mind.**

 **Thanks for all your kind reviews so far. And hey, more Rotom-dex! Which a lot of people seem to like, actually, so I'll keep that in mind.**

 **Her pokémon, unfortunately, don't make an appearance for a long time. So, to sort of make up for the short chapter, here is a line-up:**

 **Decidueye, Kommo-o, Ninetales (Alolan), Magnezone, Lycanroc (Midnight form), and Silvally**

 **As for the Ultra Beasts: 1 Nihilego, 1 Buzzwole, 1 Pheromosa, 2 Xurkitree, 2 Celesteela, 2 Kartana, and 1 Guzzlord**

 **Note of interest: I'm not strictly basing Moon's journey through Alola on either version of the game. It leans slightly more heavily towards** _ **Pokémon Sun**_ **, as that is what I've played myself, but things such as game-specific pokémon (or Ultra Beasts) are not taken into account. Nebby evolved into Solgaleo, but Moon isn't carrying Nebby around everywhere, so he won't make an appearance until later. I haven't actually written that far yet.**

 **Anyway, enjoy the rest of your week, and please leave a review!**


	6. Dive In Head First

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Six: Dive In Head First**

Moon was, surprisingly, woken up the next morning by sunlight streaming in through her window. She blinked several times to clear the sleep from her eyes.

 _Didn't I move the curtain last night?_

She propped herself up and stared out the window. Although she wouldn't call it the crack of dawn, it was still fairly early in the morning. Too early to be up during the summer. But, as she was fully awake already, she moved to get out of the bed—and stopped.

There was a tray resting on the bedside table, piled with food; scrambled eggs, piping hot sausages, a mound of hash browns, three pieces of toast with jam and marmalade, a small pitcher of juice she couldn't identify, and a pot of coffee with cream and sugar on the side.

She experimentally tapped the edge of the coffee pot—it was still hot—and then the containers of cream and juice—both cold. The tray couldn't have possibly been sitting there for more than ten minutes, but the only way into her room was through a heavy and rather noisy door. It couldn't have been possible to sneak in and out of the room without waking her up.

Moon bit her lip. Magic. Of course.

She poured a slosh of the juice into the empty glass and tasted it. Pumpkin. How one would juice a pumpkin, or why one would bother trying, she did not know. She moved to set the pitcher back down when she spotted a note written in green ink.

 _Dear Miss Blakesley,_

 _Happy birthday. You have been given the day off to acquaint yourself with the layout of the castle, as well as get a head start on your studies. On the other side of this note is a list of the professors who will be tutoring you over the next few weeks, as well as a few additional rules regarding your stay at Hogwarts. I hope you enjoy breakfast this morning._

 _-Dumbledore_

Moon pulled a small stool from underneath the table and sat down. She flipped the card over, reading the new rules she had been given. There wasn't anything ridiculous—just some basic expectations about her eating in the Great Hall, showing up to her tutoring sessions on time, and not assisting in any rule breaking for other students. She hadn't been given a curfew, she wasn't expected to show up to classes once school officially started, and she could start eating in her room when the students arrived, if she pleased. She scanned the list of teachers and their subjects. She recognized McGonagall, Hagrid, and Sprout, but that was it. Every teacher was taking time to teach her one subject, except a man called Snape, who would teach her Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts.

After she finished her breakfast, she changed into her new robes (a process that took almost half an hour, since she was not familiar with the clothing) and left her room. The castle halls were empty, but by the next month they would be filled with swarms of students. Moon had plans to memorize as much of the castle as she could, so that when school started, she would know how to avoid everyone.

Unfortunately, she hadn't considered the fact that she was in a magic castle. Whenever she tried to memorize an area by the portraits, the suits of armour, or the doors, she eventually found herself having to relearn the layout as the suits of armour moved and the doors vanished. The portraits were somewhat helpful, but most of them gave directions that were, at best, temporary.

"How does anyone find anything in here?" she muttered angrily. She was about to enter another corridor when she heard muffled giggling. Seconds later, a loaf of stale bread smacked against her shoulder.

"What in the…"

"Ickle firstie is here early!" a voice cackled behind her. Moon turned to see a floating puppet-like creature floating in the air. "Early firstie girl!"

"Did you throw that bread at me?" she asked rhetorically. The puppet cackled again before blowing a raspberry.

"Little firstie asking Peeves questions. Expecting Peeves to answer. Ha! Silly firstie!"

"I am not a first year," she retorted. "And my name is Moon."

That, it seemed, delighted the puppet even more. "Loony Moon! Loony moony Moon!"

Peeves snickered as he ran through multiple variations of her name. Moon rolled her eyes, deciding to leave the puppet alone.

"Nice toss," she remarked as she walked into the new corridor. She heard a weird sputtering noise but didn't go back to investigate.

After a few rounds of the castle and the agonizing discovery of the moving staircases, Moon felt like she had learned enough to survive the next month. She ran out of the castle, delighted to see the sun shining brightly. She didn't stay out too long, as she was wearing her robes, but she got to see the greenhouses and, from a distance, a small stadium.

 _Wonder what they do there?_

Moon managed to make it back to her room with only one wrong turn. The breakfast tray had vanished, and the pyjamas she had laid out on the bed were neatly folded on top of her trunk. She moved the clothes and opened the chest in search of her textbooks. She was technically taking every class available, including the optional courses, until the end of the month. It was ridiculous, but she figured taking every class would prepare her for any unseen circumstances when the students arrived and started asking questions.

She pulled out every textbook and picked one at random, which happened to be her slightly deformed Potions textbook. She ran a finger along the crease before cracking it open. After five minutes, she opened her Herbology textbook right beside it, as she had no idea what some of the plants mentioned in the first book were. She read over the first and second chapter thoroughly and skimmed through the third before turning her attention to the Herbology book. Moon had never been as fascinated with plants as Mallow would have liked, but the plants in Alola weren't half as interesting as the ones she read about. She accidently read half of the textbook before she set it down and reached for Transfiguration.

Unlike the previous two subjects, Transfiguration actually required a wand to work. The length of apple wood in her cloak pocket was itching to be used, but the textbook stated that the subject was extremely precise and should not be attempted without some training first, no matter how tempting it was to try.

She checked the schedule for the next day. She had covered all of the subjects she would need, except for Charms. This subject also required a wand, and while it was still as precise as Potions or Transfiguration, it seemed like a lot more fun. Having things levitate or suddenly grow legs and tap dance was surely something she would enjoy.

After she had read the first few chapters of the Charms textbook, she looked over her schedules again. Strangely, the next day was the only day where she had four classes to attend. The other days had three classes at most. Moon checked the four classes again, but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary with them.

 _Maybe this is a 'dive in head first' method_ , she wondered. She didn't think that was the case.

Moon was just about to reach for her Arithmancy text when a small popping noise distracted her. She looked over her shoulder and nearly yelped when she saw a creature with spindly limbs and an oversized head.

"Hello there," she breathed, rapidly getting over her shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Pippi was told to escort Miss Moon to the Great Hall for dinner," the creature explained in a squeaky voice. "Headmaster thought you needed reminding."

Moon checked the clock mounted on the wall and grimaced. It had been hours since she originally had sat down to study, and she hadn't noticed the time passing.

"Thank you very much, Pippi," Moon thanked as she set her books aside. She would have said more if the creature didn't suddenly burst into a fit of sobs.

After several minutes of trying to console the house elf and only making things worse for a short time, Moon found herself on the way to the Great Hall. The portraits had lost interest in her, although some called out a greeting as she passed by. She thought she saw a creature resembling a Meowth glaring at her from another hallway, but Pippi continued leading her to the Great Hall. Once they were at the large door, Pippi vanished with a snap of her fingers, leaving Moon by herself. With some hesitation, the young champion pushed open the door.

The first thing she noticed was the long table with multiple professors gathered around it. The second thing she noticed was that they had ceased talking and had turned their attention toward her. Some gave her small smiles, others looked rather happy to see her, and a few were entirely neutral. Dumbledore was smiling the brightest, and he waved at her.

"Glad to see you're able to join us, Miss Blakesley," the old wizard greeted. Moon nodded as she walked over to the empty seat between McGonagall and an intimidating wizard with a hooked nose. There was a tense air between the two of them, and she would have considered moving if the food didn't arrive merely a second after she sat down. She picked roughly a bite-sized portion of everything off of every platter she could reach, which included mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, a small piece of chicken, and a dinner roll. More adventurous foods such as liver were further up the table, but she didn't dare to ask for them.

Dumbledore took a minute to introduce her to the other professors. Moon soon learned that the man next to her was Professor Snape, head of Slytherin, the goblin-sized man across from her was Professor Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw, and Professors McGonagall and Sprout were heads of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively. Her schedule for the upcoming day made more sense.

She was being unofficially sorted by the four Heads.

 **Another chapter down!**

 **Peeves will be appearing more later on.**

 **Also: I'm trying to combine some of the shorter chapters together. My usual goal when writing is to get 1000 words down per chapter and then see what else can be done, but I think I'll try to aim a little higher than that. And I'm also looking forward to getting to some of the bigger plot points. What do you guys think; is the current length fine or do you want longer chapters?**

 **Review and let me know what you think!**


	7. Classes Start!

**The summary has been updated with dialogue from Chapter Two.**

 **I don't own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Seven: Classes… Start!**

Dinner had passed without much fanfare, and Moon returned to her room as soon as she could to get more studying done. She hadn't really enjoyed the evening—dinner had reminded her too much of her first international league meeting, with her being the youngest at the table—but there were a few things that she had learned during the meal.

Professor McGonagall was strict, but relatively fair overall.

Professor Sprout was far more lenient, but a bit more biased.

Professor Flitwick was cheery, but witty.

Professor Snape was both strict and biased.

The first three had short conversations with her about what subjects she thought were interesting, or how she was liking Hogwarts so far. Snape had not said a word, but she suspected he was listening to everything. She had kept track of his reactions to her words; he didn't give much away, but there was a spark of interest when she said she was looking forward to Defence.

Rotom had woken her up early the next morning, and she ordered the ghost to stay in the bag and be quiet for the time being. She couldn't risk having the poltergeist wreaking havoc during her first classes. Rotom wasn't entirely pleased, but still agreed in the end.

"It'zzz not like I'm missing anything," the spirit muttered during breakfast. Moon glanced around the table to see if any of the professors had overheard. Everyone had been too engrossed in their own conversations to notice.

"Given the general attitude towards ghosts here, you could be confiscated if someone found you," she whispered later on as she made her way to the dungeons. "I can't lose you."

"I didn't know you had such strong feelingzzz."

"I didn't mean it like that, genius," she huffed.

When she first stepped into the Potions classroom, her heart stilled for a moment.

 _This place is creepier than the abandoned market._

It was off-putting, with the damp air, jars of preserved ingredients (some of which were eyeballs and organs—gross), and distinct greenish light. However, another part of her thought it was sort of cool. She set up her work station, basing the layout on the textbook, and opened a blank notebook. She looked at the quill-and-ink set with irritation; it was illogical to use quills when pens were so available.

The dungeon doors opened loudly, and she almost pulled a muscle turning her head so fast. Professor Snape was striding into the room with his cloak trailing behind him. It might have been more intimidating if she was younger and less cynical.

He stood in front of the table her cauldron was resting at. His dark eyes showed a weird mix of disdain and approval.

"A bit eager to get started, are we?" he said, and Moon couldn't help but notice the slow drawl in his voice.

"I figured being prepared for any type of lesson is reasonable," she replied. The scorn receded, and Snape took a step back.

"Fair enough. Today's lesson, however, is theoretical. You will have to curb your… enthusiasm."

The lesson was nearly an hour's worth of note-taking and responding to questions. Moon got the sense that Snape was trying to trip her up, but she managed to respond to the questions correctly. It wasn't exactly dull, and she figured that she had gotten Snape's approval (at least temporarily), but she hoped her next lesson would be a bit more exciting.

Herbology was a tad more interesting. Professor Sprout had her working with the plants immediately, and alternated between giving directions and making conversation.

Transfiguration started out with a bang, as McGonagall transformed from a cat into a human. Moon was impressed, but her spirits were lowered when they simply went over the vastly complicated theory and she was, yet again, kept from using her wand.

And then there was Charms.

Flitwick was quite amiable and more than willing to let her rattle off questions about the work that went into Charms, and how it differed from Transfiguration. He even let her try some minor spells that lit up her wand and extinguished it. It was something incredibly simple—nothing more complicated than pressing a button on a flashlight—but the joy was overwhelming.

She was a witch.

It was one thing to be told that she had magical abilities, and another thing to actually use them. She saw her abilities when she first held her wand, but it was involuntary and didn't have the same effect. Knowing she could control her magical powers gave her a thrill comparable to being chosen by Rowlet.

After dinner, she alternated between reading about her next classes (History of Magic, Astronomy, and a one-time flying lesson) and retrying the wand-lighting charm. Rotom was flipping through her other textbooks.

"Seemzzz like people don't like dragons here," the pokédex remarked.

"Really?" Moon asked, looking away from the section on the failure of the Werewolf Code of Conduct. Rotom levitated the book over to her, holding it open on a page with a depiction of a dragon. The text underneath it stated it was a Common Welsh Green, although the sketch was done entirely in regular ink and lacked any distinctive colour.

"Well, it does seem to be larger than any Salamence or Kommo-o you could find," she reasoned. "And if they're claiming it's untrainable… well, I bet someone must have tried to tame one at some point."

"Still, labelling it as 'highly dangerous' isn't exactly helpful," Rotom buzzed. Moon had to agree; deciding that a living creature was dangerous and therefore never allowing anyone to even attempt to tame it or treat it in a more humane manner was rather silly.

Of course, maybe the warning was there to keep children from trying to pet random dragons. Many pokédex entries had warnings about approaching certain pokémon for the same reason.

She passed _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ back to Rotom and continued her own reading. Goblin rebellions and historical figures were nowhere near as exciting as dragons, but memorizing facts and dates wasn't hard work.

It was several hours later, when she was reading a book on Astronomy, that her eyes started to slide shut. Moon closed the textbook and set it beside her bed. After changing, she blew out the candles that she had lit when the sun went down. She slipped beneath the blankets and fell asleep, thoughts of stars and wars still dancing through her head.

History of Magic the next day was as boring as listening to reports of berry sales, and Moon only planned to attend the classes to catch up on other homework until the school year started. The teacher—a ghost named Binns—hardly recognized that she was there and would probably not mind if she got some work done. Astronomy was scheduled at night, and so Moon did more research while waiting for her flying lesson.

Now, Moon was no stranger to flying. She had taken many trips across Alola on Charizard. She had gone on jets and hot-air balloons. May had even given her a ride on Latios once. She was perfectly fine with the idea of flying in general. She had no fear of heights.

The idea of being supported by a broomstick, however, was ridiculous.

Moon stared at the battered piece of wood with trepidation. How could something so old and tiny possibly keep her in the air?

"Stand on the left side of the broomstick," Madam Hooch instructed. "Hold your hand over the broomstick, and say 'up'."

She did as instructed, but the broom only rolled around on the grass.

"It usually takes a few tries," Madam Hooch said. "You have to mean it. Be confident; you're given an order, not asking for permission."

After making the broom jump a few inches, Moon's third attempt was successful. The broomstick flew upwards, knocking her palm back. She yelped in surprise and almost forgot to actually grasp the broom. Madam Hooch spent roughly a minute correcting her grip and explaining the importance of proper posture and technique before she was actually allowed to mount the broom.

"I want you to hover for a moment, and then tilt your broom forward to land," the teacher instructed. Moon cautiously kicked off the ground. The broom wobbled, her stomach flipped, but she did manage to hover. She tilted the front of the broom towards the ground and landed gently. Her legs were shaking.

"Very good. Now, I want you to try moving forward…"

Flying, it seemed, was not going to be Moon's strong point. She could manage flying, but the combination of the ancient broomstick and her own nervousness towards the activity meant that the lesson would be her only time flying, unless she absolutely had to get on another broomstick.

Her legs were still shaking when she made it back to her room. She collapsed on the bed and didn't move for several minutes. Rotom floated around her nervously, prodding her head in an attempt to get a reaction.

"Come on," Rotom whirred, "it couldn't have been that bad."

"It's a deathtrap. A literal deathtrap."

"You're being dramatic."

"I wrestle with a dragon for fun and I own several deadly beasts that the IP wanted eliminated or contained. When I say deathtrap, I mean deathtrap."

"You once claimed you needed you're leg amputated after stubbing your toe, so excuzzze me if I don't believe you."

Her groan was muffled by the blanket. "I'm never doing that again. Not unless it's a life or death situation."

"You have plenty of those," Rotom remarked cheerfully.

She studied until dinner, and was pulled away to her Astronomy lesson immediately afterwards. As much as she enjoyed staring at the night sky, having to learn the names of all the constellations and the dates to view them wasn't the most riveting activity.

Her next few days were more fruitful. She had Defence Against the Dark Arts, and she noticed that Professor Snape seemed more passionate about the subject than Potions. She figured that his actual subject was Potions, as that was the subject she learned on the first day, and none of the other professors taught more than one class. She thought, perhaps, the previous teacher retired at the end of the year, and no replacement had been found yet.

Along with the regular classes she was taking, she was also introduced to several electives. Muggle Studies, while humourous, was rather flawed and not very useful for her. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were fascinating, if rather complex subjects.

Moon was, however, captivated by the last two electives: Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.

The former came naturally to her. After caring for her pokémon for so long, the creatures Hagrid had brought for lessons weren't that complicated or fearsome. It was almost relaxing, having something so familiar while being surrounded by things so foreign and unknown.

Divination, on the other hand, was just plain fascinating in theory. The idea that she could see into the future and interpret the events was astounding. The fact that Professor Trelawney—with her bug-eye glasses, gossamer shawls, and pessimistic predictions—was so zealous about the subject that Moon couldn't help but be dragged into it as well. Trelawney also claimed Moon had a gift for the subject, although whether that was a genuine compliment or merely a statement about her enthusiasm, she couldn't tell.

Days passed by along with more tutoring sessions, and Moon continued to improve her skills. She had, sadly, decided to drop Arithmancy and Ancient Runes officially, although both professors were willing to assist her with her own personal studies of the subjects. Transfiguration was getting better, and she had managed to accomplish the main points of first and second year work. Potions wasn't her strongest field, but she managed to do decently if she followed the instructions down to the letter. Herbology was excellent, and she had introduced Professor Sprout to some of the unique berries she had been carrying around. She now had several plants started in the greenhouse on the professor's request. Charms was her best class so far, and she had managed to perform the Freezing Charm without any difficulty.

The start of the school year was less than a week away when Dumbledore requested her to visit his office. Moon found herself seated with a large cup of tea in the messy workplace after she had finished tending to the salamanders Hagrid was keeping.

"How have classes been, Miss Blakesley?" Dumbledore asked, taking a sip of tea from his own mug.

"They've been great so far," she replied. Moon knew that she wasn't there for small talk. If Dumbledore wanted to know how well she had been doing in classes, he would have had the professors report to him rather than ask her personally.

"And your thoughts of Hogwarts so far?" he inquired.

"It's interesting. I've never been in a place where the stairs move. Or where poltergeists throw bread at you for fun."

"I take that you've encountered Peeves, then," the old wizard chuckled. "He is a rather mischievous spirit, although his sense of humour is rather odd."

Moon thought Peeves was hilarious. After the initial encounter, Peeves had started targeting the staff members instead. Moon always smiled in response, or complimented his work when the victim was out of hearing range. The spirit had calmed down gradually ever since, although the war with Filch was still strong.

"How do you feel about the arrival of the other students?"

Moon tilted her head. "Fine, I suppose."

She hadn't given it much thought at all, actually.

"Very well then," Dumbledore said, and Moon got the feeling that he knew what she was thinking. "Now, there's something I wish to discuss with you, regarding the upcoming year.

"As you may or may not know, all students in third year and above are allowed to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends, with the permission of their parents. Due to your unique circumstances, the permission form can't be completed in the usual manner."

He took another sip of tea. "The majority of the staff—myself included—will be visiting Hogsmeade this Saturday. If you wish to have a trial-period of sorts, to see if you're responsible enough to leave without written permission from a guardian, you're free to join us. You'll be allowed to explore the village without a guide. If, of course, you somehow manage to get yourself in trouble, this privilege will be revoked."

The last part was said with a grin and a distinct twinkle in his eye, and Moon wasn't sure if Dumbledore was joking or if he was hiding something.

"I… think I'll try it out," she said slowly. She had been wanting to get outside the school grounds for a while. She was never able to stay in one place for very long, and she was starting to grow bored.

"If you're certain, then," Dumbledore said. "Be ready to leave at eleven o'clock on Saturday morning. We will be gathering near the main doors."

She finished her tea, and the rest of the week passed by as usual. The teachers were talking about a prison break that happened earlier in the month. Moon could recite the story of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, considering the amount of times she had heard it. Everyone had gotten more and more nervous as time passed, however, and the tension had seeped into lessons as well. Snape snapped the most out of all of them, although that was possibly due to the fact that Dumbledore had found a full-time DADA professor. There had been talk of another incident involving a student that had run away from his house, but that had only been brought up once. The kid had found his way to Diagon Alley and had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron ever since.

By Friday night, Moon was tired of classes and was ready for a relaxing day off, and she prayed that the peace she had been blessed with would hold for one more day.

 **Originally this chapter was split into two, but I felt like they were similar enough to merge into one. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter will be the 'trial' Hogsmeade visit (guess how that'll turn out), and the one after that is where the PoA storyline comes into play.**

 **Moon will not be officially sorted into any house. For those that are curious, she would be in Ravenclaw, although she has (what I would call) Slytherin and Gryffindor tendencies.**

 **Thanks for the feedback! Especially Guest reviewer for your advice and compliment. It means a lot. On another note, I was calculating the word count of the chapters I have already written, and some of them do get pretty long (for my standards anyway). So, hooray for that.**

 **Review?**


	8. Beast Boost

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon**

 **Chapter Eight: Beast Boost**

Moon hadn't seen much of Hogsmeade when she had accidently stumbled into it, but that might have been a good thing. The cheerful and quaint village was still filled with wizards and witches wandering around the streets in robes, and the children—

 _ **BANG!**_

Were still setting off fireworks.

Moon smiled. She had been free to wander around the town without supervision, as Dumbledore had promised. Aside from a lengthy conversation with Professor Flitwick on the Summoning and Banishing charms, and a few short words with Professor Snape (who had definitely gotten more irritable since the announcement of the new DADA professor, whoever they may be) about Grindylows, she had been left alone. Moon had caught some of the professors glancing at her occasionally on the journey to the village, and she figured that the 'no interference' rule wasn't well received by all of the staff.

She knew Dumbledore was more interested in seeing how she would handle being left on her own than he was concerned for her safety. She didn't mind at all, seeing as she had travelled to far more dangerous places than Hogsmeade. She could handle going into a candy store.

Nearly an hour later, Moon discovered that she could not, in fact, handle going into a candy store. A magical candy store, to be more precise. Moon did not have a sweet tooth by any means, but she found herself purchasing several heavy bars of chocolate and a package of Fizzing Whizbees. She had spent several minutes being entranced by the effects of Pepper Imps before one of the workers had tapped her on the shoulder and asked if she was okay. She had insisted that she was fine, and had purchased a load of chocolate that would take her a month to eat. The cashier gave her a sympathetic smile when she brought over her purchase, and Moon decided to let the woman believe whatever she wanted rather than explain that she had never tried any of the sweets before.

Moon tucked the bag of candy inside her messenger bag not long after she had left the shop. She passed by the Three Broomsticks and, after seeing the professors gathered around the tables inside, decided to head over to the Shrieking Shack. She had heard stories about the haunted cabin, and thought it would be an interesting detour to take.

When she arrived at the Shrieking Shack, she was greatly disappointed. Not by the lack of ghosts flying out of it, but rather by the lack of any path inside the building. Moon wedged her fingers in between the boards sealing up the window and tried to pry one off. The board stuck tightly, and Moon figured that some sort of spell kept it in place. She pressed her forehead against the wooden barrier and peered through the small crack.

The shack was dark and filled with dust. The few pieces of furniture that Moon could see were shredded, and appeared to have been that way for a very long time. Something had gotten in there at one point, but it couldn't have been a ghost. A poltergeist like Peeves, perhaps, but that wasn't anything to be afraid of. And what sort of poltergeist would randomly destroy furniture in an abandoned cabin?

"The people here say the Shrieking Shack is haunted."

Moon pulled away from the building and whirled around in surprise. A man—a very strange-looking man—was standing a few meters away from her. His eyes were focused on her, and he smiled at her shock. His teeth were unnaturally sharp, but they matched the overgrown fingernails and vicious, sneering face he was sporting.

"It's all lies, of course," the man rumbled. "Rumours stirred up to conceal the truth. There's no ghost here."

"I figured," Moon remarked, forcing her expression into the flat stare she had gotten used to. The man was not deterred.

"You must have seen the inside of the place. No ghost could do that. Only a truly powerful creature could cause such chaos. Some creature more primal… more rage-filled… more lethal…"

The sneer on the man's face was pulled even wider with delight. "That old joke of a wizard, Dumbledore, thought it'd be a good idea to let one of my prizes into his precious school. Thought that showing _kindness_ and _compassion_ would change the boy's life."

He chuckled hoarsely. "Lotta good that did him. That Lupin kid practically ran himself into the ground after his friends left him. Should've stayed far away from wizards, like I did. The camps aren't as frilly as Hogwarts, but we don't turn on each other there."

With a jolt, Moon realized who this man was, and what the Shrieking Shack once contained.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Romania?" she asked conversationally. The man's sneer lessened, but he seemed almost pleased.

"I thought it would be nice to visit my old home before the weather grew… unbearable."

Moon hummed. "Any reason you decided to come out here, specifically?"

This time, Greyback really did smile. "I can't walk into town anymore. Especially not with the Ministry being so twitchy about Black and having Dementors stationed at every street corner. No… places like this are better. I can just admire the view, have a few drinks… maybe find myself a nice meal…"

Moon barely blinked, but she pulled her bag in front of her defensively.

"You think a purse is going to protect you, sweetheart?" Greyback snorted. Moon ran her hand through the contents of the bag, looking for her pokémon, or her wand, or something to defend herself with. Her fingers brushed one of the marble-sized balls, and she pulled it out and pressed the button. Except she hadn't pulled out a pokéball.

Greyback was startled at the beast ball expanding to fit her palm. Moon considered putting it back and finding something less volatile, but the man tensed. He growled and took a step toward her.

Moon threw the beast ball.

Greyback took a step back at the sight of Nihilego. The Ultra Beast wasn't intimidating in a physical sense, but the creature was so otherworldly that anyone would retreat. He managed to shake off his surprise, and glared at Moon.

"You think your squid is going to stop me?" he scoffed.

"Yes."

Greyback tensed, and then lunged at Nihilego with his claws and bared teeth. Moon ordered the first thing she thought of.

"Use Poison Jab!"

Nihilego's tentacle, soaked in venom, collided with Greyback's neck. He shouted and was knocked to the side. The man stumbled, attempting to attack again, but another blow threw him to the ground. The poison seeped through his skin, leaving behind charcoal-grey splotches. He did not get back up.

Moon stared for a moment. Greyback twitched and sputtered. The girl let out a relieved sigh, worried for a moment that she had accidently killed the man.

"What on earth is going on here?"

Moon froze as McGonagall ran towards her. The Transfiguration professor was leading a small group containing the four Heads of House and Dumbledore. The five professors halted when they caught sight of Nihilego.

"What… what is…?" Flitwick stammered. Snape's eyes shifted to the man on the ground, and his expression shifted from shock, to recognition, to revulsion.

"Greyback," he spat. The other professors looked away from Nihilego and gasped when they saw the collapsed man. Only Dumbledore did not seem shocked.

"I believe it is in our best interest to call the Aurors," he said. "He seems to need a trip to St Mungo's before he receives any sort of interrogation."

His blue eyes locked with Moon's, and a sense of dread crept over her.

Suddenly, being stuck at Hogwarts was highly appealing.

* * *

"Were you aware of Greyback's lycanthropy?"

"Yes."

"Did you go to the Shrieking Shack to meet Greyback?"

"No."

"Are you afflicted with lycanthropy?"

"No," Moon snapped. The Auror across from her raised a bushy eyebrow. "I'm _not_ a werewolf."

The Auror scribbled something in the file in front of him before slamming it shut. "You're free to go, Miss Blakesley. Thank you for your cooperation."

Moon made sure to shut the door a little harder than necessary on her way out. She was prepared to storm down the hallway when she saw Dumbledore looking at her gravely. Shame washed over her as she realized she had let her emotions get out of hand.

"I have to confess," the old wizard said, "that when I let you wander through the village on your own, I thought you would be safe. Had I known that Fenrir was in the area…"

"You wouldn't have let me wander off without a guide," she finished. Dumbledore nodded, and the two started walking down the hallway.

When the Aurors had arrived, everything seemed to fall into chaos. There were people who insisted that Moon should go to St Mungo's for a check-up, there were others that insisted she needed to be placed in a cell, and there was one person who claimed she deserved a medal for knocking down Greyback. In the end, she was taken to the Ministry for questioning. The process took hours, as a Healer prodded her with a wand while she had to explain everything—her arrival in England, her encounter with Greyback, and her pokémon—while several different Aurors took notes. She was forced to bring her pokémon out of their pokéballs to demonstrate that she had a reasonable amount of control over their actions, and she had managed to convince the Aurors that she could keep her pokémon in line.

She conveniently forgot to mention that the Ultra Beasts weren't pokémon.

"I am surprised, though," Dumbledore continued, "that when you are threatened, your first instinct is to summon a creature, rather than use your wand."

"Old habit," she explained.

"A habit that has led to a flurry of paperwork and one man being hospitalized."

Moon frowned. "Greyback was wanted on multiple charges for murder and 'deliberate infection' of the magical community, as well as his work with Voldemort. The poison in his bloodstream should be flushed out within a few days. If you're expecting me to feel guilty about this, then you're out of luck."

Dumbledore nodded, but his face was grim. Moon sighed heavily.

"I suppose this means my trial was a failure."

"Although you did handle the situation with more grace than I could ever expect from anyone, I can't condone your methods."

It wasn't a direct answer, but the message was clear.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Blakesley," Dumbledore said sincerely, although there was a spark of hopefulness in his eyes.

"It's alright, I suppose," she lied. She wouldn't want to walk around the village on her own, but the idea of being stranded in the castle while everyone else roamed around wasn't pleasant.

They arrived back at Hogwarts in time for dinner. None of the professors brought up the subject of Hogsmeade, apart from Snape muttering a 'good riddance' that only Moon heard, and she got the impression that they had been told not to talk about it.

Moon turned to Dumbledore, who was sitting on her left. "Sir, when the term starts, where do you expect me to sit during mealtimes?"

He seemed somewhat surprised that that was her first question that evening. "With the other students, or in your room if you feel uncomfortable with the atmosphere."

"If I were to sit in the Great Hall, would I have to sit with one house each time, or could I switch?"

"Since you have no affiliations with any of the houses, you're free to sit with whatever house you wish."

Moon bit her lip. The amount of leeway she was being given was getting to be unnerving. She was starting to wonder if Dumbledore was doing this out of the goodness of his heart, or if he was gauging her reactions the entire time. She ate dinner as quickly as she could before heading back to her room and shutting herself in. Rather than attempting another study session, she changed into her pyjamas and sat on the bed.

She didn't want to be confined to a strict schedule, or be funneled into a group based on her traits, or be forced to associate with other children, but she didn't see why she didn't have to do any of those things. There was no way that so many exceptions could be made on a whim. Dumbledore had to have a reason for being so lenient with the rules in her case.

 _At least you won't have any attachment to the place when you can go home._

The thought was unbidden, as though it had just been dropped into her mind by another person. Moon laughed sharply as the meaning behind the old headmaster's actions became clear.

 _He thinks he's being kind._

In a way, he was. Keeping her away from the traditional, inclusive Hogwarts experience would make leaving the place far simpler than if she had been sorted and invited into the fold. She might have gotten attached to the place and wanted to stay behind, and leaving would cause her as much stress as her arrival had. Or at least, Dumbledore thought that might be the case.

Moon had power in Alola. She had friends. She had far more freedom than she did at the school. There were people back home that would be worried about her, people that would search for her relentlessly. There would be an empty chair sitting high on a mountain, waiting for her to return. There would be battles for her to win. There would be a plethora of thing for her to do. There was a world which she knew everything about, and if Dumbledore thought she would give all of it up to attend school, he needed to get his head checked.

 **The title of this chapter is the ability of the Ultra Beasts.**

 **I'd say this chapter marks the end of the 'fun vacation' Moon's had so far at Hogwarts. She's been able to relax so far, without many responsibilities.**

 **That ends here.**

 **As of writing this note, I've finished all of my finals, and I've managed to complete another chapter in the story. And I feel like I should give you guys a fair (spoiler free) warning as to how this story will go:**

 **This story will essentially be a series of subplots and minute initial changes that result in much bigger changes. Whether this results in a beneficial change in the long run or not… that is subjective.**

 **Next week, of course, is where we get to meet some more familiar faces. And Moon has a minor freak-out.**

 **On another note: how many of you would like to see a romantic subplot involving Moon in** _ **The Forgone Trial**_ **or in any future stories related to it? It's early in the story, I know, but I feel like it would be better to see how you guys feel about the idea before deciding. I'll be setting up a poll regarding this. I already have some ideas about romances between other characters, and I've considered a few possibilities as to who Moon could end up dating, but I want to know what you guys think before I actually write any relationship into the story.**

 **Review?**


	9. Long Evening

**I don't own the HP series or Pokémon.**

 **Some dialogue and scenes derived from Prisoner of Azkaban, both the book and the movie.**

 **Chapter Nine: Long Evening**

Moon had never really liked the concept of schools.

She enjoyed learning, and she enjoyed the material being taught, but she had never liked being around other children. Whether it was due to the fact that she was comparatively mature for her age, or because she didn't get along with the other children particularly well, she hadn't truly had any friends before she moved to Alola. The teachers adored her (and maybe that only kept her isolated from people her age), but they had always treated her like she was a kid, never answering her questions properly and claiming that she had time to worry about things when she was older. Moon had grown up believing that children were ignorant and that adults liked keeping them that way, and she had never found evidence to disprove that theory.

She had been glad when she finally got out of mandatory schooling. She had worked in a library for nearly a year and had hoped to challenge the Kanto League at one point before her mother announced the move to Alola. Now, two years after she had gotten Rowlet, she was back in school.

She hid near a statue, wearing her plain black robes, as the students drifted in. Most were drenched from the rain, but a fair number of them were chatting happily. Some were shaking from something other than the cold.

Moon joined a group of students whose robes were lined with red. McGonagall pulled two of the students away, and Moon slipped into the empty space. The Great Hall was as beautiful as ever with its enchanted ceiling, but the rainy sky was hardly a thing to marvel at.

She sat at the long table with the Gryffindor students, across from a redhead with bright blue eyes. The boy blinked.

"First years are supposed to be up there," he said, gesturing to the single-file line of eleven year olds being brought in by Flitwick.

"I'm not a first year," she argued, "I'm a transfer student."

The red haired boy stared at her for a moment. "From where?"

"I've been homeschooled for the past few years, but I'm originally from Hawaii," she bluffed. She had found a map of the world and had studied the islands intensely. They were close enough to Alola that she could make the story seem plausible.

"That would explain your accent," he said. Moon bit her lip, but turned towards the front of the room when the Sorting started.

Moon noticed that whenever a student was sorted into Slytherin, the applause from the other houses was forced. She knew that the rivalry between the houses was intense, and that Slytherin got the worst of it, but she didn't imagine that they would start stereotyping eleven year olds the second an old hat made a decision.

As the Sorting was just wrapping up, the doors opened again. Moon turned to see two students (both Gryffindors) and Professor McGonagall walk in. McGonagall headed for her empty seat, while the two students tried to attract the least amount of attention as possible as they walked to the table. Many of the students from every house pointed and whispered anyway. The redheaded boy waved them over, ignoring the stares entirely.

"What was all that about?" the boy asked as the two students took seats on either side of him. One student was a girl with bushy hair and teeth that were slightly too large. The other was a boy with chaotic black hair and glasses that shrunk his green eyes. The boy with glasses leaned over to whisper something to the redhead, and Moon caught a glimpse of a lightning bolt scar.

 _Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived_

There had been newspaper clippings, and some books written with him in the later chapters, and the teachers had brought him up in conversation ( _'he ran away from his guardians,'_ Moon recalled), but none of her resources had led her to believe he would appear so… normal.

 _And small._

The books had only agreed that, somehow, Harry Potter had managed to survive the Killing Curse after Voldemort had murdered his parents. Everything after that was speculation; one book claimed he was being trained at Hogwarts, another said he was taken by Death Eaters to be raised as their next leader. None of the scenarios presented would result in him being so thin.

 _Don't ask. It's none of your business. Leave him be._

Dumbledore had been talking for a minute about the Dementors, how they were stationed along the school grounds, and how the younger students should follow the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl. Moon didn't listen. She thought of how her friends would joke that she'd be fine on her own, seeing as she had no soul.

Dumbledore looked around the room seriously, and his eyes rested on Moon for a brief moment before he turned back to the rest of the room.

"On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year."

He gestured to a wizard that Moon did not recognize. She figured that he was the replacement DADA professor.

"Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Moon blinked. The scattered, half-hearted applause was drowned out by her shock. She found herself clapping along when Hagrid was announced as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor, but she didn't properly think until the food appeared on the table.

 _Lupin._

She glanced back at the teachers' table. He stood out sharply, as his robes were in dire need of replacement compared to the cleanly dressed professors surrounding him. He was smiling, but there was a certain weariness about him visible even from her distance.

' _No shit,_ ' she thought, _'his friends all died and he's been a werewolf since he was four.'_

Her eyes flickered over to Dumbledore, and she flinched when she saw him observing her. She focused on the food, spearing a piece of roast beef a little harder than she intended.

"Hang on a moment," the brunette said, "you're new."

"I'm a transfer student," Moon said flatly.

"She's from Hawaii," the redhead added before taking a bite out of a drumstick.

"Really?" the brunette asked, suddenly much more interested than she had been a moment before. "That would mean you went to Ilvermorny! What's it like there? I read that they're the only other school with a house system like ours. In fact, the founders based Ilvermorny off of Hogwarts."

Moon held up a hand to cut the girl off. "I was homeschooled."

The girl only seemed to be more intrigued. "Homeschooled? They allow homeschooling for wizards?"

"It's not exactly common, but yes," Moon answered. "I'm Moon Blakesley, by the way."

"Hermione Granger," the brunette girl replied before she nudged the redhead with her elbow.

"Ron Weasley," he said after swallowing a mouthful of food. Moon nodded and looked over to Harry.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter," the dark-haired boy said.

"Nice to meet you," Moon replied. She turned back to her plate and carried on with her meal. The three students seemed nice enough, even if they were a little nosy. They had a nice conversation about their upcoming classes throughout the feast. Moon couldn't stop her eyes from flickering over to Lupin. Each time she looked, he seemed to be looking back, but not directly at her.

After the last bit of dessert had disappeared, Dumbledore dismissed the students. Hermione, Ron and Harry ran towards the teachers table to speak with Hagrid. Moon would have walked out with the rest of the students if Dumbledore did not wave her over.

"What is it, sir?" she whispered, daring to glance at Lupin for a second. It had been hard to tell from a distance, but he didn't actually look that old. If she ignored the greying hair and the shabby clothes, she would place him in his late twenties to early thirties.

"I need you to come to my office," he said. "I think that you have some questions you want to ask me."

She nodded, knowing that 'some questions' didn't even begin to cover what she wanted to ask. She refused to have an outburst right in front of the professors (and _him_ ), so she went to leave the hall with the three Gryffindors.

"What did Dumbledore want to see you for?" Ron asked.

"Something to do with an incident last weekend," Moon fibbed. She immediately regretted it.

"What incident?" Hermione pried.

Moon looked her directly in the eye. "I got into a fight with a werewolf and got him hospitalized."

Hermione froze, and then glared. "If you don't want to say what it's about, then just say so."

"Fine. I don't want to talk about it."

Hermione nodded sharply, but Moon could still sense some anger radiating off of her as the three headed for Gryffindor Tower. She went off in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

"Crystallised Pineapple," she said flatly. The gargoyle statue moved aside. When she entered the chaotic office, the first thing she saw was Dumbledore sitting in his chair. The second was a man dressed in the green robes of a Healer. Her jaw clenched in frustration.

"You wanted to speak with me, sir?" she asked as politely as she could. Dumbledore nodded, seemingly oblivious to her repressed anger.

"A situation regarding Greyback has arisen. Healer Fawley insisted on speaking with you."

Moon turned to the Healer. He seemed to have a permanent grin stretched across his face, which made him look no older than twenty.

"You're the one who fought with Greyback?" Fawley asked, excitement flooding his voice.

"Er… yeah?"

"Excellent. Fantastic. Magnificent."

Moon was starting to get suspicious about the man's enthusiasm.

"It's the strangest thing," he said happily. "Last night was the full moon, you know. We had to set Greyback up in a warded area. Safety procedure, right? We've been dosing him with sedatives and have kept him locked up in that room since you caught him. Anyway, we were all prepared to deal with his transformation last night—a friend of mine almost gave him an extra strong dose of Calming Draught, wanted to see if it would work, took hours to talk him out of it—except, for whatever reason, _he didn't transform!_ "

The last part was said with such glee that Moon thought it was a joke.

"What?" she tested.

"He didn't transform," Fawley repeated. "We were watching the entire night—how many times do you get to observe the effects of lycanthropy?—but there was nothing. Not even an extra hair or tooth."

The Healer's brown eyes were dancing with joy. "I went in there this morning to figure out what happened. The guy was out of it. He had no idea why he didn't transform last night, but he was angry. Took a while to get another Calming Draught in him. I performed a test to see if he actually had lycanthropy. I did the test when he first arrived, and he was a werewolf when he entered St Mungo's, but this time the test was negative!"

The atmosphere in the room was like a bubble, ready to burst at any moment. Moon glanced at Dumbledore. The old wizard was staring intently at the Healer.

"You're saying that Greyback, the most feared werewolf in British history, has been stripped of his lycanthropy?"

"That's what it looks like," Fawley replied. "We don't know how, exactly, which is causing a bit of a fuss. This could be a huge breakthrough if we could figure it out."

He turned to Moon. "As I understand it, you fought him off with some sort of creature that poisoned him?"

"Close enough," she said with a shrug.

"Is it possible that the creature's poison somehow caused Greyback to lose his lycanthropy?"

"It's… possible," she admitted slowly. "Nihilego's venom… it's said to have parasitic effects. If lycanthropy operates in a similar way—a disease that can't be fought off with regular medicine or with an immune system—then, perhaps, the two would… cancel each other out?"

"We'd need to do some more tests to be sure," Fawley said, "but if this is a possible end to lycanthropy, we have to pursue it."

Fawley turned to Dumbledore, the grin fading from his face.

"If it's possible, I'd like to have Moon visit St Mungo's every few weeks or so to help test this theory. We could get a trial started soon enough, I hope, and we would need her and her pet to make this work."

Moon's jaw clenched. Nihilego wasn't her pet, and neither were the other Ultra Beasts. Despite the chaos they brought with them, they were her friends.

"I suppose that is manageable," Dumbledore said. "We could have her Floo over to St Mungo's on Saturdays, if she agrees, of course."

Moon bit her lip, but nodded anyway. Fawley smiled again, showing off a set of shiny teeth.

"Excellent. It won't be this Saturday, of course. We'll send you a message when the trial group is gathered."

The Healer stood up and smoothed out his robes. "I really should be getting back to work. Thanks for your assistance, Moon."

"You're welcome," she said. Moon watched as Fawley threw Floo powder into the fireplace and travelled back to the hospital for his shift. It wasn't until the fire turned orange again that she looked at Dumbledore.

"Why did you hire him?" she asked flatly. Dumbledore wasn't surprised by her bluntness.

"He is currently the best person for the job."

"If he is so skilled, why didn't you hired him before?" she probed, resting her cheek on her fist.

"Professor Lupin has lived a very rough life, especially in the past decade. He hates being pitied, and refuses charity and goodwill outright. I doubt that he would have accepted the position without current events."

The gears in her mind clicked against each other as she thought of the conversation she had with Dumbledore a month prior.

" _He was well liked, but he had three close friends. The four of them joined a special group to fight Voldemort when he grew too powerful. One of his friends betrayed them all, however, effectively leading to the death of one friend and his wife, and personally killing the other. The man was caught and sent to prison, but Remus was left alone."_

"He was friends with Sirius Black, wasn't he?"

That actually surprised Dumbledore, and the shock showed on his face.

"What caused you to think that?"

"You said his friend went to prison," she stated, "and that he wouldn't accept a job out of pity. He's here because, to some degree, he knows how Black works. He feels responsible, he wants Black captured…"

 _He was looking at the Gryffindor table, where I was sitting, but not at me…_

"… he wants to protect Harry Potter."

Dumbledore blinked. An awkward moment of silence passed before the old wizard sighed.

"You are far more observant than most children your age, Miss Blakesley."

"I try," she shrugged.

"Professor Lupin was, at one point, close friends with Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew. After the events on Halloween night twelve years ago, he lived on his own. I did not want to interfere, but when Black escaped, I decided it was time to ask him to be the Defence professor."

Moon thought for a moment. "He doesn't know about me, does he?"

"Not at the moment, no. I thought it would be best if you told him yourself. Of course, if you wish for me to tell him instead—"

"Who says I'm going to tell him?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "You do not intend to inform him that you're his sister?"

"Half-sister," she corrected, "and no, I am not going to tell him."

"May I ask why?"

"You said he was born twenty years before I was," she recalled. "I'm literally young enough to be his daughter. He's not going to want to be around me, not with everything going on."

A twinkle of amusement glimmered in the old wizard's eyes. "You're under the impression that he would want nothing to do with you?"

"If he is as stubborn and as self-deprecating as you say he is, he would think that I'd be better off without him, and that I would want nothing to do with him. He'd be happier not knowing."

"So you would like to know him better, but due to current circumstances believe it is better to keep your distance so that Professor Lupin is kept from doing the same thing."

She frowned. "Basically."

Dumbledore leaned forward. "I will not force you to reveal your relation to Professor Lupin, nor will I tell him myself. However," he said seriously, "I do not think that hiding such information will be beneficial to either of you. If he were to learn that you're his sister—"

"Half-sister."

"—through a different channel, his reaction will certainly be more severe."

"More severe than him blatantly ignoring me?" she questioned. "Look, I might tell him later on this year, I don't know. What I do know is that I want him to treat me the same way he treats all of the other students. That's not going to happen if he knows right away."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Fair enough. It is your own choice, after all," he said somewhat sadly. He glanced at the clock on his desk. "You should head to your room. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for you, I imagine."

Moon nodded and, without another word, walked out of Dumbledore's office.

The halls were dark and silent. Moon had never walked through the halls at night, at least not without the lanterns being lit, and the difference it made was huge. The castle had been warm and comforting, but as night fell and the lights went out, the feeling of magic grew heavy and oppressive.

Her steps were quick but light. Sneaking around was not a new concept for her. Moon had intended to head back to her room without any interruptions, but fate had a different plan in mind. She was about to turn the corner that would lead to the portrait guarding her room when she heard Snape's voice.

"Enjoying a stroll in the moonlight, Lupin?"

The sheer venom in his voice caused Moon to freeze. Snape was never the happiest person around, but he had been decent to her since her arrival. She hadn't expected to hear such hatred coming from one person.

"I am just patrolling, Severus," a new voice replied. It was strangely calm considering the initial remark, and warm.

"Why bother? You and your precious friends had plenty of time to scour for hidden passageways. Surely you know all of them by now."

"I'm merely making sure that there are no students out of bed," Lupin responded.

"Don't patronize me, _wolf_ ," Snape spat. "Dumbledore and the others are certain that you're safe, that you couldn't possibly have any reason for being here other than to protect Potter, but I know—"

The sound of metal crashing against stone rang across the halls, followed by a high pitched shriek.

"Peeves!" Snape snapped. "For Merlin's sake…"

Two sets of footsteps headed in the direction of the noise, away from Moon.

"I owe you one, Peeves," she whispered as she tapped the portrait with her wand. She slipped inside her room and tore off her robes. When she had changed into her nightwear, she fell into her bed and let out a long sigh.

School had finally started. Nihilego's poison could be the cure to a horrible disease. Her half-brother was wandering around the castle with no clue that she even existed. She had narrowly avoided what could have been the most awkward conversation of her life thanks to a certain poltergeist.

It had been a long evening.

And the next day wasn't any better.

 **Alternate title for this chapter: In Which Many Characters Are Brought In and Plenty of Stuff Happens In a Short Amount of Time.**

 **To clarify the last chapter's A/N a tad bit: I'm not planning on doing a romance subplot for Moon during the PoA storyline. However, if I were to extend the story (a collection of one-shots, for example, or even continuing the story past the end of PoA), having a romantic subplot is possible, but not important to most of the ideas I have. If the general consensus is 'no', I might still refer to a relationship Moon is in, but not have it as an actual subplot. The poll will remain up for the time being.**

 **Review?**


	10. Grim Predictions

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban. Reference to The Power of One (Pokémon the Movie 2000).**

 **Chapter Ten: Grim Predictions**

"You're in Divination as well?"

Moon looked up from the schedule that had been given to her to Hermione's curious brown eyes. "Yes. I find the subject fascinating."

Ron, who had been reading Hermione's packed schedule, peered at hers. "You're classes don't make sense either. What's with all the colours?"

The schedule in question was marked with boxes of black, green, red, and blue ink surrounding the classes. Some had two different colours marked for the same class.

"I'm not in any house," Moon explained, "and so rather than following a regular schedule like yours, I'm taking my classes with all of the other houses."

She read over the timetable. "You guys are stuck with me all day tomorrow, by the way."

"Thanks for the warning," Ron said before turning to Hermione. "How exactly are you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Honestly, Ron…"

Moon tuned out the rest of the conversation. She didn't exactly know how Hermione would manage taking three classes at once, but in a magical world, almost anything was possible. Time travel was a feasible concept with pokémon. Why couldn't the same power be utilized in a controlled environment?

She finished her breakfast quickly and headed for the Divination classroom. The path to the North Tower wasn't complicated, but without proper directions it would be easy to get lost. Moon was glad that she had had so much time to memorize the layout of the castle, although she did wish she had a map or something.

She stood on the landing underneath the trap door and waited. The Gryffindors that decided to take Divination slowly gathered around her, but it was obvious that they had no idea how to enter the classroom. Two girls tore their eyes away from the brass plaque inscribed with Trelawney's name and stared at her.

"You're the new girl," the one wearing a butterfly clip stated.

"Well, yes, I suppose," Moon responded flatly. The girl wearing a red bow in her hair held out her hand.

"I'm Lavender Brown," she said, "and this is my friend, Parvati Patil."

"Nice to meet you," Moon said honestly, "and I'm Moon Blakesley, by the way."

Parvati looked up at the plaque again. "How are we supposed to get in?"

"It's a trap door," Moon explained. "There's a ladder to get in."

"You've been up there, already?" Lavender asked, slightly awed.

"I met with all of the professors to prove that I can do the work required for third year," she bluffed.

"What's it like?" Parvati questioned. "I heard it's one of the most beautiful rooms in the school."

"It is certainly colourful, I'll give it that," Moon chuckled. She spotted Harry and Ron climbing the last few steps, horribly out of breath. She gave them a small smile.

"Took you long enough."

"Got lost," Ron wheezed. The redhead nudged his friend and pointed at the trap door.

"Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher," Harry said. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

Moon was about to tell them when the trap door opened at last. The silvery ladder fell right at Harry's feet. The whispering ceased.

"After you," Ron said with a grin. Harry ascended first, then Ron, Parvati, Lavender, Hermione, and a blond boy Moon didn't recognize. Moon waited behind and went up the ladder last, pulling the door shut behind her.

The Divination classroom, unlike many of the serious and uncomfortable classrooms the other teachers used, was more like a teashop than a school room. The hot, heavily scented air always made Moon sleepy, but she stayed awake.

"Welcome," an ethereal voice wavered out from the shadows. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

Professor Trelawney was Eccentric with a capital E, and Moon thought it was fantastic. Everything from her oversized glasses down to the dozens of shawls she wore reminded Moon of the many fortune tellers and psychics of the Kanto and Johto regions.

Trelawney invited them to sit around the tables. Moon sank onto a scarlet pouffe near the blond boy who introduced himself as Neville Longbottom, a bright-eyed boy named Dean Thomas, and a boy with a noticeably different accent named Seamus Finnigan.

Professor Trelawney introduced herself as she sat down in the winged armchair near the fireplace, and she claimed that she rarely left the tower to preserve her psychic abilities. Moon thought it had more to do with not wanting to encounter her colleagues, but said nothing.

Trelawney fussed with her shawl. "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can only take you so far in this field..."

Moon looked over at Hermione, who was looking scandalized at the idea that books had little importance.

"Many witches and wizards," Trelawney continued in her misty voice, "talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future. It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said to the blond boy beside Moon, who almost fell off his pouffe in surprise, "is your grandmother well?"

"I think so," Neville said, his voice shaking.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," Trelawney stated. The boy gulped. The professor continued as though she hadn't predicted some misfortune, "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she interrupted herself again, this time talking to Parvati, "beware a red-haired man."

Parvati was startled, and slid her chair away from Ron. Moon supressed a laugh; it was unlikely that Ron would bring her any serious harm.

"In the summer term, we shall progress to the crystal ball—if we have finished with fire-omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us for ever."

Silence filled the classroom, but a small hope was lit in Moon's heart. Could it be possible that she'd be returning home in the spring?

"I wonder, dear," Trelawney said suddenly, snapping Moon out of her thoughts, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender stood up and removed an oversized teapot from the shelf and placed it in front of Professor Trelawney.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading—it will happen on the sixteenth of October."

Lavender sank back into her seat, trembling from the prediction.

Trelawney then instructed them on how to read tea leaves. She told Neville about using a blue cup after he breaks the first one, and, sure enough, the first teacup shattered on the floor a few seconds after the prediction.

Moon paired up with Dean, and the two drank the hot tea as rapidly as they could. After doing the proper motions of swirling the dregs and draining the remaining tea, they switched cups.

"Yours here," Moon said as she flicked through the pages of her book, "you've got a wheel, meaning progress, and this little swirl here means creativity… are you an artist or something?"

"I like to sketch," he admitted.

"Really? Well, good luck with that. Literally, though, there's a horseshoe here. Or is it the symbol for 'together'?" she wondered, squinting into the cup. "You're either going to finish a huge art project, or seduce someone. I can't tell."

The two of them laughed before Dean started reading her teacup.

"There's a sun here, which could mean great happiness, or a new start. Second one seems more fitting in your case. A bird, meaning good news, and a little series of dots here… that means you'll be busy. And, er…" he frowned, "a skull."

"A skull?"

"It could be an acorn," he said hurriedly. Moon took her teacup back and checked.

"No, that's a skull," she said pleasantly. "Danger in my path, how lovely."

"Are you sure you're not a Gryffindor?" Dean asked, slightly more amused than he had been a moment before. Moon opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"The skull… danger in your path, my dear…"

The two turned to look at Trelawney, who was observing Harry's cup. Judging by the look on Harry's face, none of the predictions had been pleasant. Trelawney turned the cup before letting out an ear-splitting shriek. Another teacup crashed to the floor (Neville again) and Trelawney stumbled back into an empty chair.

"My dear boy," the professor wailed, "my poor dear by—no—it's kinder not to say—no—don't ask me…"

"What is it, Professor?" Dean asked as the four of them rushed over to Harry's table. Moon tried to peer into the cup, but she was blocked by everyone else trying to do the same.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney said worriedly, "you have the Grim."

It took Moon a moment to process the words, but when she realized what it meant, a cold feeling sank in her stomach.

"The what?" Harry responded, somewhat bewildered by her reaction.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" Trelawney wailed. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen—the worst omen—of death!"

Trelawney's dramatic conviction had its intended effect, as Harry's face lost all of its colour in the span of a second. Moon noticed that Hermione was the only one who was unaffected by the proclamation, and that she had gotten up and was standing behind Trelawney's chair.

"I don't think it looks like a grim," the brunette said flatly. Trelawney glared at her student.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

Seamus had managed to get the closest to the offending teacup, and was observing it intently. "It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, squinting, "but it looks more like a donkey from here."

"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" Harry snapped. Moon gave him a flat, almost bored look, and whatever angry thing he planned to say next died on his tongue.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," Trelawney announced in that misty voice of hers. "Yes… please pack away your things…"

The classroom was silent as everyone returned their teacups and packed their books into their bags.

"Until we meet again," Trelawney near-whispered, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear—" she said suddenly, pointing at Neville, "you'll be late for class next time, so mind you work extra hard to catch up."

Moon hung back for a moment. It wasn't until she heard the sound of footsteps descending the staircase that she turned back to Trelawney.

"Professor? I have a question."

Trelawney blinked, her glasses magnifying the action. "About your friend's demise?"

"About predictions in general," she stated. "Is it possible that a prediction, using any method, could have more than one meaning?"

"Such as…?"

"I… heard a prophecy, once," she admitted. "It basically said there was going to be a large fight between three powerful beings, the one supposed to stop the fighting would be unable to, and, I quote 'the world will turn to ash'."

"A very dark prophecy," Trelawney murmured.

"At first, we thought there would be some sort of mass destruction, but nothing happened. A friend of mine managed to calm all three beings before anything got too out of hand."

"Is that so?" the professor said, a cold note creeping into her voice.

"Strangely enough," Moon continued, "the friend who managed to stop the disaster? His name's Ash."

That made Trelawney pause. "Is that so?" the professor repeated after a moment, her voice returning to its misty norm.

"Well, his real name is Ashton, but no one calls him that," she clarified. Trelawney hummed and fidgeted, her bracelets and rings clinking against each other.

"I suppose," the woman said slowly, "that predictions can only have one meaning, and that it is human error, our own judgements, that cloud the truth. It is the job of a Seer to divine the meaning from the obscure."

Moon nodded, and thanked the professor before descending the ladder. She had Herbology with the Slytherins and the Ravenclaws next, something she was looking forward to.

Even with her staying back to ask questions and the odd layout of the castle, Moon was still the first one to make it to the greenhouse. Professor Sprout was there, setting up a series of innocuous potted plants.

"Oh," the woman yelped when Moon knocked on the door. "Miss Blakesley, so sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Didn't mean to startle you, Professor," Moon apologized as she stepped in. She gestured to the potted plants, "What are we doing today, if you don't mind me asking?"

"We'll be reviewing the Severing Charm," Sprout said.

 _That explains the plants._

Laughter echoed from outside. Moon looked over her shoulder to see clusters of green and blue robes heading towards the greenhouse. The nearest group consisted of two brutish males that could have passed for fifteen year-olds, a pale blond boy whose entire appearance screamed spoiled rich kid, and a pug-faced girl who was giggling at something the blond boy had just said. The four of them entered, and their laughter died when they spotted Moon.

"You're the new girl everyone is talking about," the blond boy stated, eyeing her colourless robes.

"I don't know about 'everyone'," Moon said primly. Their robes were all green; Slytherins, the main rival of Gryffindor.

"News travels fast around here," the boy said smoothly. "How there's a transfer student who's cozied up to the Gryffindors."

"I have most of my classes with them, unfortunately," she said airily, "I might as well be civil and not paint a giant target on my back."

Her words appeased the four Slytherins. The blond boy stepped towards her, hand outstretched.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

 _Malfoy_

The name rang a bell. She had read it in a book somewhere—a pure-blood family, one of the Sacred Twenty Eight. They were known for their pure-blood values, Slytherin traits, and vast fortune.

"Moon Blakesley," she replied, shaking his hand. Draco grinned.

"These two are Crabbe and Goyle," he said, gesturing to the two bodyguards with his head. "And this is Pansy Parkinson," he added, looking at the sharp-faced girl.

"Nice to meet you all," Moon replied honestly. The other students—both Ravenclaw and Slytherin—had trickled in by this point. Professor Sprout instructed them to go in pairs and take turns severing the leaves from the plants. Pansy was pulled away by another Slytherin girl, and so Moon ended up partnered with Draco.

"How about you sit with us during lunch?" Draco offered as he flicked his wand in the direction of the plant. Two twin leaves were cut from the stem and fluttered onto the table.

"Dinner," she countered. "Dinner would make more sense."

"Why?" he asked, almost offended that she had disagreed.

"I have another class with Gryffindors today," she said as she severed the rest of the leaves from the plant. "But the elective later today is with you Slytherins as well. Care of Magical Creatures."

His grey eyes lit up. "I'm in that class."

"Really? Well, that's nice to know," she said, switching the shorn plant for a new one. "We'll talk during class, and you can invite me to sit at your table during dinner. If any Gryffindor asks, I'll just say I'm being polite and not taking sides."

"Fair enough," Draco laughed. "You'd do well in Slytherin."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" he asked, genuinely confused. Moon smirked.

"No sense of self-preservation," she said casually.

The rest of the class passed without incident, and the class was dismissed at the bell. Moon walked ahead of the Slytherins and made it into the Great Hall on her own. She headed for the Gryffindor table again, seating herself across from Hermione. The brunette pushed a bowl of stew towards the redhead.

"Ron, cheer up. You heard what Professor McGonagall said."

"What did Professor McGonagall say?" Moon asked.

"That Divination is an imprecise branch of magic, and that Trelawney has made many death predictions that haven't come true," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Ron pushed some of the stew with his fork before turning to Harry.

"Harry, you haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"Yeah, I have," the dark-haired boy said. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys."

Moon thought it was odd that he called them 'the Dursleys' rather than 'my relatives', but she didn't think it was a good idea to ask just yet.

"Probably a stray," Hermione remarked. Ron was not as calm as the brunette.

"Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's—that's bad. My—my Uncle Bilius saw one and—and he died twenty-four hours later!"

"Coincidence," Hermione said as she poured a glass of pumpkin juice.

Ron was starting to get angry. "You don't know what you're talking about! Grims scare the living daylight out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then. They see the Grim and die of fright," Hermione stated. "The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better pop my clogs then!"

Ron gaped like a fish while Hermione cracked open an Arithmancy textbook.

"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said casually as she flipped through the pages. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

"There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!" Ron retorted.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," the brunette replied in a cool voice.

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being rubbish at something for a change!"

Moon eyed the Slytherin table enviously, wishing she had taken up Draco's offer to sit with them. Hermione slammed her textbook down on the table, sending bits of food flying.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!"

Hermione stalked away, leaving two confused and irritated boys and one girl who was trying to ignore everything that just happened.

"What's she talking about?" Ron said with a frown. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

"She might have just read the textbook," Moon said, although she didn't believe her own words. Ron turned to her, his eyebrows knitted together.

"What do you think?"

"Pardon?"

"Of the Grim," he said, obviously frustrated. Moon set her fork down.

"I think there is some meaning behind it," she said slowly before looking at Harry. "I don't think it means you're going to die anytime soon."

"Then why'd he see the Grim?" Ron pressed.

"Things will only ever have one meaning," she said, repeating Trelawney's words, "but our own judgements cloud the truth. There could be another reason you saw the Grim in your teacup."

"And what about the one I saw earlier?" Harry asked.

"It could be related, or it could be a coincidence," she said vaguely. "Just… don't go looking for trouble and you should be fine."

Ron was a little less agitated, and Harry was a little less worried about the possibility of his impending demise, but the argument hung heavily in the air until the three of them left the Great Hall together.

 **There was an error when posting last week's chapter. Not sure if anyone was alerted when it updated.**

 **Review?**


	11. How to Handle Magical Creatures

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Eleven: How to Handle Magical Creatures**

The atmosphere between the three Gryffindors did not dissipate as they went outside for their first Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Hermione and Ron were refusing to talk to each other, and Harry was stuck in the middle of them. Moon threw him a sympathetic look as they made their way down to Hagrid's hut. She spotted Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle huddled together, talking and laughing about something.

Hagrid stood outside his hut with a gigantic, slobbering dog hanging around his feet.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he said impatiently as the class gathered around him. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

The group moved towards the trees, but walked along the edge of the forest rather than venturing into it. Within five minutes, they were standing outside a fenced area that was empty.

"Everyone gather round the fence here!" Hagrid called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see. Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books—"

"How?" Draco interrupted, sounding rather put-out. Moon glanced at him in surprise. He was staring at the professor with cold eyes, but for a split-second she thought she saw his eyes flicker over to her once. She looked back at the three Gryffindors she was standing with, and all of them were looking at Draco with varying amounts of dislike.

"Eh?" Hagrid said.

"How do we open our books?" Draco asked as he pulled out _The Monster Book of Monsters_. Moon saw that he had tied the book shut with rope. Everyone else started pulling out their copies of the book, and all of them had bound or contained the books in some manner. Only Moon pulled out an unbound copy, holding the covers together with her palms as she let her pinky glide over the spine. The book shivered in her hands and let out something close to a purr, but remained unopened.

"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid asked sadly. Moon stroked the spine a little more intently. The book shuddered, and fell open when she removed her palm from the cover. The students gawked at her when she held up the book. Hagrid, however, was immensely glad.

"Yeh managed ter figure it out, Miss Blakesley," he stated.

"Just stroke the spine," Moon instructed. "They're not so difficult after that."

The other students ran their fingers down the spines of the books. Most were relieved to know how to control the books, others were displeased that they hadn't figured it out themselves. Draco was almost sulking, but Moon doubted it was because he didn't get the answer first.

"Righ' then, so yeh've got yer books ready, an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures. I'll bring 'em back here in a momen'!"

As Hagrid disappeared into the Forbidden Forest, the students swarmed around Moon. Hermione gripped her wrist, surprising Moon with her strength.

"How'd you figure it out?" Hermione asked. Moon noticed that the girl was far more tired than she had been during Divination, or even lunch.

"It's basically an animal," Moon said with a shrug, "so I figured that it would react like one. Sort of like how a dog likes getting its ears scratched."

"How were we supposed to figure that out?" Draco asked angrily. Moon gave him her flat, devoid-of-all-emotion stare.

"The question is difficult but the answer is simple," she replied. "When the answer is achieved, the question is forgotten."

"What?"

"Professor Hagrid must have figured it out quickly, or was told how to open the books," she said flatly. "He must have concluded that it would be the same for everyone else."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when Lavender cried out, pointing towards the other side of the enclosure.

One dozen creatures with the bodies of horses and the heads of eagles were moving towards the students. They each had massive wings, razor-sharp beaks, deadly talons and orange eyes. Hagrid was guiding the group of creatures using a leather chain that stretched and wrapped around the necks of the odd creatures.

"Gee up, there!" Hagrid shouted as he urged the creatures towards the edge of the fence. The other students took a few steps back, but Moon stood in her place, gazing at the creatures in awe. Hagrid secured the creatures to the fence with the leather chain, and turned to the class proudly.

"Hippogriffs! Beau'iful, aren' they?"

They certainly were beautiful; the Hippogriffs had such smooth coats, each a different colour, and the talons and the beaks looked as though they were made out of solid, gleaming steel.

"So," Hagrid beamed, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer…"

Moon, Harry, Hermione and Ron approached the fence with caution. The others stood back, waiting nervously.

"Now," Hagrid announced, "firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is they're proud. Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had started muttering, and Moon shot them a cold glare. The three boys flinched and ceased talking.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid explained. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn't bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right—who wants ter go first?"

Moon looked around at her classmates. Most shuffled back, others were frozen to the ground, and even the Gryffindor trio looked nervous at the idea of saying hello. The Hippogriffs did appear fearsome, but Moon knew that appearances of creatures was usually deceiving.

"No one?" Hagrid asked, slightly bewildered that the class was so nervous.

"I'll do it," Moon said, and it took her a second to realize that she wasn't alone in saying that. Harry had also spoken up.

"I s'pose yer can both go," Hagrid said, just as Parvati and Lavender whispered something about tea leaves. Harry and Moon climbed over the fence.

"Right then," Hagrid said happily, "let's see how yeh do with Buckbeak and Stormswift."

He untied two of the Hippogriffs—the grey one and the black one—and led them over to the two students before he removed their leather collars. No one on the other side of the fence was speaking.

"Easy, now, yeh two," Hagrid whispered. "Eye contact is important here, try not ter blink—Hippogriffs don't trust yeh if yeh blink too much…"

Moon kept her eyes locked with the black Hippogriff—Stormswift, she presumed.

"Tha's it," Hagrid said. "Tha's it, you two… now, bow…"

She bowed deeply, maintaining eye contact with Stormswift. The creature held her gaze for a moment, unmoving, until his knees bent in what she knew was a bow. Buckbeak did the same thing a moment later to Harry.

"Well done, Harry and Moon!" Hagrid cheered. "Right—yeh can touch them! Pat their beaks, go on!"

Moon stepped forward, noticing that Harry was not entirely sure of the safety of the situation. She stroked Stormswift's beak, and the Hippogriff closed his eyes, much like a pokémon did. The class applauded, but some were more forced than others.

"Rig' then, yeh two," Hagrid said happily, "I reckon they migh' let yeh ride them!"

Moon beamed at the idea of riding something other than a broom. She followed Hagrid's instructions, hoisting herself onto Stormswift's back and wrapping her arms around his neck with ease. Hagrid sent the two Hippogriffs off with a shout, and within moments, Moon was soaring through the air.

It was nothing like riding a broomstick, and Moon knew which one she preferred; Stormswift's wings beat strongly on both sides, making her much more confident in the ability to stay airborne; the Hippogriff's neck provided a stable place to hold on as opposed to the rickety school brooms that could snap at any second; the flight made her feel much more at home as they flew around the paddock.

The landing wasn't too terrible, either. A little bumpier than riding on Charizard, but there wasn't any shaky feeling that came with riding a broomstick. She dismounted Stormswift as the class cheered. Harry slid off Buckbeak's back, a little more shaken than she was. He obviously didn't enjoy the flight as much as she had.

"Good work, yeh two!" Hagrid roared. "OK, who else wants a go?"

The rest of the class must have decided it was safe, and everyone climbed over the paddock fence. Hagrid untied the rest of the Hippogriffs, and soon everyone was bowing to one of the creatures. Harry watched Hermione and Ron practise with the chestnut Hippogriff, while Moon went over and joined Draco with Buckbeak. Crabbe and Goyle stood back, acting as entirely-unnecessary bodyguards. Buckbeak bowed to the two of them in turn, and let them pat his beak. Moon wanted to talk to Draco, but the aura around him was chilly.

"This is very easy," the Slytherin drawled. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it… I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you? Are you, you great ugly brute?"

Moon spotted the talons slashing through the air, and reacted instinctively. She shoved Draco back as hard as she could. The blond boy stumbled back, and only managed to remain upright because Crabbe and Goyle caught him. Moon hadn't managed to get out of the way fast enough. One moment she was relieved that Draco hadn't been hit, the next she had fallen onto the grass. People shouted and screamed. Hagrid was pulling Buckbeak back into his collar and away from the students. Moon rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky until Hermione came into view.

"Moon?" the brunette asked worriedly. "Moon? Can you hear me?"

"No need to shout," Moon said, somewhat dazed. "What are you all screaming about?"

"Your arm…!"

Moon lifted her head off the ground. There was a rather deep gash in her left arm that stretched from her shoulder to just an inch above her elbow. Blood was seeping through her shredded robes.

"Huh," she said, sounding almost amused. "Well, I've had worse."

"We need to get you to the hospital wing," Hermione said. Moon sat up suddenly, causing a surge of pain to run through her arm. She took a sharp breath. The gash must have been deeper than she realized.

"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione questioned.

"What's it look like?" Moon retorted as she removed her outer robe. The black cloak was slashed open and had blood staining it, so she took off the entire thing and bundled it around her wound. She stood up and started to walk towards the castle.

"You can't walk there by yourself, you're injured!" Lavender called.

"It's my arm, not my leg," Moon said casually.

"That's not the point!"

"Fine," Moon huffed. "If anyone wants to walk with me to the hospital wing to make sure I don't pass out from blood loss, feel free."

"We'll take you," Draco said, gesturing for Crabbe and Goyle to follow.

"Haven't you done enough damage?" Ron sneered.

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco spat. Moon rolled her eyes and started for the castle again. A few seconds later, the blond and his bodyguards were flanking her.

"You really shouldn't be walking," Draco said in a low voice.

"What should I do?" she asked. "Fly up to the hospital wing on a broomstick?"

"Be carried there, or something."

"I don't want to be carried," she said. Goyle stepped ahead and held open the door for the other three.

"You're being ridiculous," Draco said harshly.

"You said independent wrong."

"You're going to faint if you keep walking!"

Moon walked faster.

By the time they made it to the hospital wing, Moon was feeling rather lightheaded. Madam Pomfrey heard them walk in, but was most likely drawn out of her office by the fuss Draco made. When the matron spotted the bloodied cloak, she shooed the three Slytherins out and ordered Moon to sit on the nearest bed.

"You shouldn't have walked here," Pomfrey said sternly as she removed the cloak.

"Everyone has said that, yet here I am," Moon said. The gash was bloody and crooked, but it didn't tear through anything too critical. It would heal without causing her many problems in the future.

"What exactly caused this?" Pomfrey asked as she waved her wand over the gash.

"A Hippogriff that Draco insulted."

Pomfrey let out a hiss. "Honestly, that boy…"

She put her wand away and moved to a cabinet of potions. "There's only so much I can do when it comes to injuries caused by Magical Creatures. A normal cut is just a quick spell to fix, but the magic from the beast is infused into the wound and resists healing spells. You'll need to wear a sling for the next week or so."

Moon huffed. "Fantastic."

Pomfrey brought over several bottles of potions and one goblet. She poured a red potion into the goblet and gave it to Moon.

"Blood-Replenishing Potion," Pomfrey said. "And I'll put some Murtlap Essence and Dittany on the cut. It won't heal entirely, but it shouldn't be so painful afterwards."

Moon downed the potion as Madam Pomfrey applied the other two potions to the cut. The matron bandaged her arm and put it in a sling. She refilled the goblet with a potion marked as a Pain-Reducing Potion, which looked like sky-blue paint and tasted roughly similar.

"Do I have to stay here for the night, or can I leave?" Moon asked.

"You may go if you wish, but come see me tomorrow during lunch or if you're feeling unwell. Don't strain yourself. I'll give you another dose of Blood-Replenishing Potion to take before bed, and a Pain-Reducing Potion if you think your arm hurts too much."

Moon placed the vials of potion in her bag and thanked Madam Pomfrey. She headed towards the Great Hall, not wanting to be late for dinner.

"Moony-loon!" a familiar voice shrieked. Moon tilted her head up to see Peeves waving wildly.

"'Lo, Peeves," she greeted. "Thought of any good pranks lately?"

The poltergeist didn't answer verbally, but pulled out a wooden spoon and a metal pot from… well, somewhere.

"That'll annoy Filch," she said cheerfully. "Make sure you pretend to stop after an hour or so, wait a few seconds, then start again."

Peeves snickered and let her pass by without incident. The poltergeist hadn't attempted to prank her since the bread incident. Moon figured it was because she found the pranks to be funny rather than irritating.

She let out a laugh as the sound of someone banging a pot with a spoon reverberated through the halls.

Moon managed to get to the Great Hall just before dinner was about to start. She blocked the door from closing with her foot and pushed it open with her good shoulder. She headed towards the Slytherin table, ignoring how the chatting amongst the students fell as she passed by. Draco looked at her with surprise when she approached.

"What are you doing?" he asked, bewildered.

"You asked me to sit here during lunch, I said I would sit here during dinner, you agreed, and here I am."

"Shouldn't you be resting in the hospital wing?" Pansy asked. The pug-faced girl didn't seem to be too happy that Moon was there.

"Madam Pomfrey let me go," Moon replied coolly. "Now, can I sit here, or do I have to eat with the Gryffindors again?"

The Slytherins all shuffled over to make space for her. Dinner was surprisingly more pleasant than she had expected an evening with the most cunning and ruthless house to be. In fact, aside from Parkinson, all the Slytherins treated her as though she were an old friend.

' _Guess that's what happens when you save a rich kid from being killed by a rampaging Hippogriff,_ ' she thought after dinner. Peeves' tantrum had escalated to including many unfortunate suits of armour, and Moon could hear the teachers screaming at the poltergeist through her door. As she read over _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , the screaming and clanging stopped. She lifted her head.

 _Three… two… one…_

 _ **Bang! Crash!**_

" **PEEVES!"**

She laughed so hard that the book snapped shut in frustration.

 **Sort of a fun chapter to write. Especially flying on Stormswift. I tried to make a clear distinction between Moon and Harry's preferences when it comes to flying. Harry, in the book, was very uncomfortable flying on Buckbeak, and liked flying on a broomstick much better. Moon, however, is used to flying on pokémon, and has a better understanding of how magical creatures behave compared to how she handled flying on a school broom.**

 **I've deliberately written Draco as being friendly towards Moon. He's a Slytherin, and she's a new student that's been relatively receptive towards him. Draco did attempt to make friends with Harry in the beginning (a poor attempt, but still), and he's trying a similar approach to Moon with more success. Moon recognizes that Draco's a jerk, but she also knows enough about him and his family that she wants to stay on his good side for the time being.**

 **Also, to clarify something from the last chapter: it's not so much that Ash (from the anime) exists in this story, it's more like Red (from the games) did some stuff that Ash did. In this story, Red is a nickname (same goes for Blue and Gold). Some ideas from the anime and the movies will be present in the storyline, but the background of the pokémon world is based more on the games. So… no magical adventure where you stay 10 for 20 years.**

 **Fun fact: the surname Blakesley is the name of a town, but the meaning is roughly 'black wolf's meadow'. I chose this name because I thought it would be hilarious to have more wolf-related names in the Lupin family tree.**

 **Anyway, that was a long A/N. Hope everyone has a great day!**

 **Review?**


	12. Abstract Fears

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Twelve: Abstract Fears**

Whoever decided that Gryffindors and Slytherins should be in a class led by the Head of Slytherin needed to be doused in cold water, as the only way that idea could possibly make any sense is if the one behind it was horribly drunk.

Making a potion with only one arm wasn't the hardest thing Moon had ever done, but listening to the Slytherins and Gryffindors snap at each other was putting her on edge. Having Professor Snape skulking around and nitpicking the Gryffindors' potions didn't help at all. If it wasn't for Hermione's intervention, Neville would have lost his pet toad and Moon would have to have Peeves targeting Snape for the rest of the term.

' _I might just have him do that anyway,'_ she thought sourly.

There hadn't been much talk besides the occasional sharp remark between the two houses, and a tense conversation about the possible sighting of Sirius Black. Draco had taken the opportunity to goad Harry, but Moon had been too focused on following the instructions to care. It wasn't until after class—when she walked with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and after an incident that assured her that Hermione was a time traveller—that she learned what was said.

"So Malfoy thinks Black's got it out for you?" she said, almost bored.

"It makes no sense, does it?" Harry answered.

 _Sirius Black Sirius is the dog star literally Dog Black who named their kid that freaking Arceus Harry saw a Grim which is a black dog and the tea leaves had a Grim could that be connected_

"None at all," Moon said as they entered the Great Hall for lunch.

She was, admittedly, dreading her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Moon took extra care to not grip her bag too tightly or clench her teeth. She tried her best to look bored.

Which was rather easy when she realized Lupin wasn't in the room.

With the crisis temporarily avoided, she pulled out the textbook and started reading. Defence would never be her favourite class (Charms held that title), but she could appreciate the material. It was geared more towards combat than anything, but it was essentially a little bit of every class mixed into something practical.

The sound of the classroom door opening again caught her attention. Lupin walked in, smiling slightly as the students stopped chatting. He set a battered suitcase on the front desk and turned to the class.

"Good afternoon," he said, and Moon noted begrudgingly that he sounded friendly. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands."

This was obviously not a normal occurrence, as the other students started to exchange looks as they packed up their books and quills.

"Right then," Lupin said when everyone had gathered all of their things, "if you'd follow me."

The class followed Lupin out of the classroom and into the empty corridor. When they turned the corner, Peeves was floating there with his ankles above his head and his thumb jamming a piece of chewing gum into a nearby keyhole. When Lupin was about two feet away, the poltergeist broke into a song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," he sang, "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin…"

As much Peeves enjoyed causing mayhem, he was always relatively respectful of the professors. This was new behaviour for him. Moon looked over to see Lupin's reaction, and was mildly surprised when she saw him smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole, if I were you, Peeves," the man said politely. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Peeves, in typical fashion, ignored him, choosing to blow a raspberry instead. Lupin sighed and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he said to the class. "Please watch closely."

He raised his wand, said " _Waddiwasi!_ " and pointed the wand at Peeves. The chewing gum rocketed out of the keyhole and flew into Peeves' left nostril. The poltergeist fled, letting out an impressive series of curses as he flew down the hallway.

"Cool, sir!" Dean Thomas said in awe.

"Thank you, Dean," Lupin said as he put the wand away. "Shall we proceed?"

Most of the students were impressed, but Moon was not. Peeves would be causing trouble in another part of the school. Fortunately, they did not encounter the poltergeist again as they walked down another corridor and stopped outside the staff-room.

"Inside, please," Lupin instructed as he opened the door. The students filed in to the almost-empty room. Professor Snape was sitting in one of the armchairs, and he didn't seem the least bit surprised to see a group of third-years wander in.

"Leave it open, Lupin," he sneered as the Defence professor made to close the door. "I'd rather not witness this."

Professor Snape strode across the room, his cloak fluttering behind him. He stopped at the doorway and spun on his heel so that he was facing Lupin.

"Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Moon frowned. Treating the Gryffindor students like garbage was awful enough when it happened in Potions with Slytherins, but badmouthing Neville in front of another teacher was a whole new low.

Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Professor Snape was furious, but said nothing as he stalked out of the room. Neville had managed to attain the exact colour of a Cheri. Moon was impressed for a brief moment before she squashed the feeling down.

"Now then," said Lupin, guiding the class towards and old wardrobe. As he approached it, the wardrobe moved on its own, hitting the wall with a loud thud.

"Nothing to worry about," Lupin assured. "There's a Boggart in there."

' _Something that transforms into your worst fear is nothing to worry about,'_ Moon thought wryly.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," Lupin explained. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks—I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third-years some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air before Moon even thought of answering.

"It's a shapeshifter," she said confidently. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Lupin said. Hermione beamed, but Moon had to suppress an eye-roll.

 _That was literally right out of the textbook!_

"So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form," Lupin continued. "He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

Neville squeaked, but everyone ignored it.

"This means that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Hermione had her hand in the air again, preparing to answer the question herself, but Harry managed to come up with an idea.

"Er—because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," Lupin said. Hermione's hand dropped reluctantly, as though she was disappointed that she didn't answer. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake—tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening."

The students laughed, suddenly less nervous about the Boggart than they had been a minute before. Even Moon had to suppress a smile.

"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practise the charm without wands first. After me, please… _riddikulus_!"

" _Riddikulus_!" the class chanted.

"Good," Lupin said. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And that is where you come in, Neville."

Neville looked as though he was walking towards his demise as he approached the shaking wardrobe.

"Right, Neville," Lupin said. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville mumbled something too quiet to hear.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Lupin said kindly. Neville only looked around worriedly, as though he was hoping to find an escape route.

"Professor Snape," he finally whispered. The class laughed, and Neville smiled sheepishly, but Moon frowned. Having a professor, someone who you had to face every week, be your worst fear could not be easy on a person. Neville had always seemed skittish, but facing his worst fear every week was admirable.

"Professor Snape," Lupin muttered. "Hmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er—yes," Neville admitted. "But—I don't want the Boggart to turn into her, either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," Lupin said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

A lightbulb went on in Moon's head.

 _He wouldn't… would he?_

"Well… always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress…"

Moon's eyes flickered over to Lupin, who was smiling brightly.

 _He's actually going to have Neville conjure Snape in drag._

"Right then," Lupin said. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," the blond boy said nervously.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," Lupin explained. "And you will raise your wand—thus—and cry ' _Riddikulus_ '—and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, that green dress, that big red handbag."

The class roared with laughter at the image of the Potions professor. The Boggart shook the wardrobe again, more aggressively than before.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to turn his attention to each of us in turn," Lupin continued. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

A hush fell over the class. Moon had no idea what her deepest fear was. She wasn't spooked by Ghost-type pokémon or Bug-type pokémon. The spooky myths she heard about some pokémon as a child held no weight anymore as she had met most of them. Even her fear of Lusamine in her merged form had disappeared within a few weeks of the fateful fight. The only times she had truly felt fear had been intense moments with incredible pressure placed on her.

' _You fear tragedy,'_ her mind supplied. _'How do you make that funny?'_

"Everyone ready?" Lupin asked.

Most people were rolling up their sleeves in preparation for the Boggart. Moon discreetly shuffled back a few steps. To her surprise, Harry didn't appear to be ready to face the Boggart, either.

"Neville, we're going to back away," Lupin said. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward… everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot—"

The class pressed themselves up against the walls. Neville was left alone next to the wardrobe, nervous but prepared.

"On the count of three, Neville," Lupin said as he pointed his wand and the wardrobe's handle. "One—two—three—now!"

Sparks shot towards the wardrobe, and the door burst open. An exact copy of Professor Snape stepped out, his face twisted into a familiar sneer. Neville started to back away, raising his wand defensively. The Boggart-Snape was approaching him, towering over him…

"R-r-riddikulus!"

The sound of a whip crack was followed by a loud roar of laughter. Boggart-Snape had nearly fallen in surprise, tripping himself on the hem of the green dress.

"Parvati! Forward!" Lupin instructed over the noise. Parvati moved towards the Boggart. Another crack of noise, and the Boggart had shifted into a decaying mummy. The mummy raised its blood-stained hands towards Parvati.

"Riddikulus!"

The mummy tripped on a bandage that had unravelled, landing on its face. The head snapped off, rolling across the floor. Seamus was next, and this time the Boggart shifted into a skeletal woman with a thick veil of black hair. The Boggart opened its mouth and shrieked, louder than any human could possibly shriek.

"Riddikulus!"

The banshee's scream abruptly turned into a hoarse noise as she lost her voice.

The banshee was replaced by a rat, then a snake, then an eyeball. The Boggart didn't stay in any form for more than a few seconds.

"It's confused!" Lupin shouted. "We're getting there! Dean!"

The eyeball shifted into a severed hand than crawled around on its fingertips.

"Riddikulus!"

A mousetrap snapped shut over the hand.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!" Lupin shouted.

Many people screamed as the Boggart shifted into a human-sized spider. The Boggart seemed to regain some of its strength as it headed towards Ron.

"Riddikulus!" the redhead yelled, and the spider was suddenly legless. It rolled across the floor, causing Lavender to dart out of the way. It stopped when it reached Harry and Moon. Whether it was intentional or not, Moon shifted forward a step.

 _Crack!_

The spider had vanished, leaving behind a dog-like creature that was covered in silky-white fur on every part of its body except for its face. Red eyes shone out from its greyish skin. Sharp talons dug into the stone floor. It threw its head back, brandishing the scythe it bore.

"Riddikulus!"

The fur on the Absol's body grew and grew, until it was no more threatening than a giant cotton ball. The class laughed, and out of the corner of her eye, Moon saw Harry step forward.

"Here!"

The Boggart, who had been focusing on Harry, was suddenly blocked by Lupin. Its attention turned in response to the newcomer, and it shifted into a white orb that simply hung in the air. Lupin's spell was done with half the enthusiasm that everyone else displayed, as though he had faced his fear so many times that it simply didn't matter.

The Boggart fell to the floor as a cockroach, and Neville was brought back into the fold. Snape appeared again, more menacing than ever.

"Riddikulus!" Neville yelled, sounding much braver than he had before. The Boggart was forced into the ugly hat, the old dress, and the gaudy handbag. It only took Neville laughing once for the Boggart to burst, sending spirals of smoke up in the air.

"Excellent!" Lupin cheered over the applause of the students. "Excellent job, Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see… five points to every Gryffindor to tackle the Boggart—ten for Neville because he did it twice—and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," Harry protested.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin explained. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarise it for me… to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

The entire class was chattering excitedly as they left the staff room. Moon smiled reluctantly—the lesson had gone better than she had expected—and turned her attention to her friends. Her smile vanished when she noticed that Harry was frowning.

"Problem?" she whispered. Harry looked shocked at being pulled from his thoughts so suddenly.

"Er—" he mumbled, but was cut off by Seamus shouting.

"Did you see me take that banshee?"

"And the hand!" Dean added, gesticulating his own wildly.

"And Snape in that hat!"

"And my mummy!"

"I wonder why Professor Lupin's frightened of crystal balls?" Lavender wondered.

"Probably has had some bad experiences with prophecies," Moon shot over her shoulder.

"That was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" Ron said happily.

"He seems a very good teacher," Hermione agreed. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart—"

"What would it have been for you?" Ron laughed. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

Moon turned back to Harry. "Well?" she asked quietly, pulling the dark-haired boy back and letting the other two continue their walk back to the classroom.

He hesitated for a moment, before Moon started to glare.

"Back when you faced the Boggart," he whispered, "did you move in front of me?"

Moon blinked. "Maybe I did, but it wasn't intentional."

Harry let out a short breath. "I could handle it."

"I'm sure you could."

"But Professor Lupin—"

"Probably thought that you would see Voldemort," she finished.

"You said his name," Harry said, stunned.

"It's a name, not a curse word."

"Most people act like it is," he muttered. The two started walking again to keep up with the rest of the students. "Still. Why did you move towards the Boggart?"

 _Because the first thing I heard about you is that you ran away from your relatives. Because I saw the stories in the library about how you were orphaned as an infant. Because sometimes the teachers talk amongst themselves about how you fought off your parents' murderer twice in two years. Because my first impression of you was that you were like Lillie, trying to be brave at all times._

"I was sort of curious as to what form it would take," Moon said. "My fear's a bit more abstract than spiders or banshees."

"What was that thing, anyway?" he asked.

"An Absol," she replied. Harry's brow creased, and she cut off the next question.

"It's a bad omen where I'm from. When one appears to a human, a disaster is sure to follow."

"Really?"

"Most of the time," she backtracked. "They don't like populated areas, but are extremely sensitive to changes in the atmosphere. They tend to try and warn people of the disaster and get everyone to safety, but people started believing that the Absols were the ones bringing trouble. They're considered to be highly unlucky."

His frown deepened, and she knew that he was thinking about the Grim.

She wanted to tell him not to worry, that he's lived long enough past the prediction that it's unlikely that he's in danger, that it might not actually be the Grim at all and that he has a long life ahead of him. But they've barely known each other for three days, and her words would mean very little to him. So she continued walking, trying to keep her injured arm guarded and her mind off of the Defence lesson.

 **Trying to stick to the timeline of the book is so weird. I'm currently writing the Christmas holidays from Moon's perspective, and I just realized that that section was the halfway mark of the book. There's still so much I want to do… so many scenes to write…**

 **I have plenty of time of course, there's just so many ideas as to how some scenes will go that I just want something written down already, and yet I feel like I need to do it chronologically. That's life I guess.**

 **Review?**


	13. Room and Bored

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Thirteen: Room and Bored**

The news of Snape in drag spread like wildfire, and by Saturday morning Moon couldn't walk five steps in any direction without having someone attempt to talk to her about it. It had become overwhelming, and she had chosen to seclude herself over the weekend. The letter from St Mungo's wouldn't be arriving for another week at least, and she wasn't in any position to enter the common rooms. The only places in the school she could have some semblance of privacy were the library—which would have been fine if Madam Pince wasn't constantly breathing down the back of every student to walk within three feet of one of the books—and her room.

She had scribbled out a summary of Boggarts in well under an hour, and her tea leaves weren't giving off any new information other than the skull disappearing. Her arm was healing slowly but steadily, and she would hopefully be able to remove the sling within the week. Her other homework disappeared in a flash, and she was left without anything to do.

 _And it's only noon._

Moon drummed her fingers against the table. She could take her chances in the library and look for some light reading material, or she could head over to Professor Vector or Professor Babbling to do some extra work with their respective subjects, or she could attempt to break into one of the common rooms…

' _All terrible ideas, really,'_ she thought sourly. They weren't awful ideas, but nothing appealed to her at this point. All she really wanted to do was play with her pokémon. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough space in her room, and the classrooms were too cluttered to work. She couldn't venture far enough outside due to the Dementors. Anywhere that was safe from those creatures was too exposed. Moon didn't want people bearing down on her, asking questions they had no right to be asking.

"Miss Moon?"

She flinched at the sound of the squeaky voice. She hadn't even heard Pippi enter her room.

"Yes, Pippi?"

"Are you done with lunch?" the house elf asked. Moon hadn't shown up for breakfast that morning, and Pippi had taken it to mean that she didn't want to be in the Great Hall that day. The house elf had brought over a plate of sandwiches earlier, all of which had been eaten.

"Yes," Moon smiled. "Thanks for that."

Pippi had gotten used to Moon's gratitude (or at least, didn't burst into tears every time the student said thank you), and merely nodded.

"Anything else Miss Moon needs?"

"What I really need is a large room that no one can walk into," she laughed. "I don't think you—"

"Why not the Come and Go Room?"

"The… what?"

"It's a secret room!" Pippi chirped. "No student or teacher's seen it twice, since no one's known what to do."

"Do you know how to get in?"

"All the house elves know!"

"But… let me guess, no one's asked you."

"No one!"

"Alright," Moon said, running her hand through her hair. "Where's this Come and Go Room?"

"Across from Barney Barmy and his trolls," Pippi whispered excitedly, even though they were alone. "Walk past the space three times with what you need in your head."

"That's all?" Moon whispered back. Pippi nodded vigorously.

"Pippi needs to get back to the kitchens," the house elf said. "Pippi hopes you can find the room, Miss Moon!"

Pippi vanished, leaving Moon in the room alone. The girl gathered up her books and her bag, and left her room.

Barnabas the Barmy was a loon in the truest sense, and everyone knew it. He was so famous that he got several paintings of his exploits made. The most famous scene depicted Barnabas attempting to teach trolls ballet. Such a painting was hung on the seventh floor of Hogwarts in the left corridor. Moon hadn't taken the time to stop and stare at it, but it wasn't exactly a painting that was easy to miss.

Moon went to the wall opposite the portrait. It wasn't anything special—no doors or portraits hiding entrances to other rooms. She turned on her heel and began to pace.

 _I need a space to train with my pokémon in secret._

 _I need a space to train with my pokémon in secret._

 _I need a space to train with my pokémon in secret._

She had pinched her eyes shut. She didn't want to be disappointed when the door didn't appear. She didn't want to be mad at Pippi for misleading her.

Moon opened her eyes.

The door stood there proudly, practically daring her to deny that it had appeared. Moon blinked, and then broke into a wide grin. She pushed to door open hastily and let it swing shut behind her.

The room was spacious, and was made out of a rocky terrain, much like Poni Island. Training dummies stuck up around the place. Tufts of grass sprouted around the rock pillars, and thick ivy clung to the walls. Towards the back, the grass got thicker and thicker, turning into a grassy plain. A sturdy oak tree stood at the far edge of the room, with its branches climbing up towards the ceiling.

It was perfect.

Moon slipped her hand into her bag and pulled out the six pokéballs.

"Decidueye! Magnezone! Lycanroc! Ninetales! Kommo-o! Silvally!"

Light burst out from the capsules, and six pokémon appeared before her. Immediately, Lycanroc bounded over to his trainer. His tuft of white fur flopped over his red eyes, and the wolf pokémon slid the last few feet and crashed against Moon. The teenager braced herself and managed to keep both of them upright.

"Missed me, have you?" she cooed. A wet tongue collided with her nose. "Okay! Okay! I've missed you, too…"

The familiar sensation of Silvally clamping its jaw around her head took her attention next. She reached up to scratch the tall pokémon underneath its chin, which prompted Lycanroc to whine. Moon scratched the wolf pokémon's chin with her other hand, until she felt Ninetales prodding her shoulder with her head.

"I never realized how clingy you guys are," Moon laughed. Lycanroc responded by nuzzling her neck. "Ah! Okay—I take it back!"

Decidueye pecked playfully at her hand, Magnezone floated around her and made her hair stand on its end, and Kommo-o rested its head on her shoulder. Moon sighed in fake exasperation.

"We're not going to get any training get done today, are we?"

The resounding clucks, growls, and beeps confirmed her suspicions.

Although most of the students divided the days of the week by what classes they had on each particular day, Moon had started her own schedule. She couldn't sneak off to the Come and Go Room whenever she pleased, and she didn't want to attract attention to the room's existence. She ended up heading to the room for training on Monday and Wednesday after classes had finished. She had managed to coax her pokémon out of impromptu cuddling sessions and had gotten some training done during the week. Moon would have headed over to the Room on Friday, but she was distracted by a letter.

It had arrived in the flurry of the morning owls that came every day. It fluttered into her lap, and she had stared at it for a good thirty seconds, not breathing, before she picked it up.

"Is that from your parents?" Ron asked.

"No," she said hoarsely. She slashed the letter open with a table knife and pulled out the parchment.

 _Dear Miss Blakesley,_

 _A trial group designed to test the effects of Nihilego venom on werewolves has been assembled. Healer Fawley will be sent to collect you tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. We ask that you bring Nihilego with you so we may obtain samples. You will be given a visitor's card upon arrival. If you are willing to fill out the required forms, you will be upgraded to a consultant's pass._

The letter went on for another few paragraphs, stating what she could not bring into the hospital, how the consultant's pass would be necessary later on, and how her contribution was appreciated. Hermione leaned towards her, and Moon folded the letter as quickly as possible.

"What's that about?" the brunette asked, sounding slightly wounded.

"The werewolf I fought."

Hermione paused, her fork dangling an inch from her mouth. "You're starting this rubbish again?"

"Who said it was rubbish?" Moon asked flatly. She passed the letter over to the bookworm as evidence. Hermione almost choked on her eggs as her eyes scanned over the letter.

"This… what…?"

"I took a trip to Hogsmeade the Saturday before school started," Moon explained. "Some werewolf tried to attack me. It didn't end well for him."

"What is a Nihilego?" Ron asked, having read the letter over Hermione's shoulder.

"A type of magical creature that I brought along with me."

"What's it like?" Hermione asked, highly intrigued.

"It's a cross between a squid and a jellyfish, except it floats in the air. Its venom had some… side effects."

"Like what?"

"Not sure if I'm allowed to talk about it," Moon said quickly, taking one last bite of breakfast. She took the letter back and rushed out of the room, not even sparing a glance at the head table. She already knew Dumbledore would be smiling, gently goading her to talk to Lupin. She would have none of it.

It was her choice whether to tell him or not, wasn't it?

 **Short chapter this week, but we finally get to see Moon's pokémon! And the Room of Requirement, albeit by a different name. And Fawley comes back (sorta). Next week is St Mungo's.**

 **Review?**


	14. Malady and Medicine

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Mentions of terminal illness, needles, and homework ahead.**

 **Chapter Fourteen: Malady and Medicine**

St Mungo's looked a lot different when Moon viewed it through the eyes of a spectator. Being cooped up in a solitary room and then being guided out as quickly as possible hadn't resulted in a good impression of the place. Walking through the halls behind a chattering Fawley, however, was changing that impression.

"We weren't entirely sure where to hold this trial," the Healer babbled. "Typically werewolves are put in the Creature-Induced Injuries section, but that doesn't really count. We nearly set up in the Magical Bugs and Diseases ward on the second floor, but we didn't want anyone to accidently catch something during the trial and mess up the results. So we're here on the third floor—Potions and Plant Poisonings—which fits with what we're doing."

Fawley was waving his hands wildly as he spoke, attracting a few harsh glares from the other Healers. He didn't notice, but Moon did, and made sure to return equally sharp looks.

"It didn't take too long to get a small trial group together, which is a surprise. Most people don't run around proclaiming their werewolf status. We decided to be honest, saying we wanted to test a potential cure and needed people to come forward. I thought it'd be best if we kept these people off the registry, since most aren't on there in the first place and they were brave enough to come here. We could always claim patient confidentiality if the Ministry starts to pry."

He smiled at her mischievously, and Moon found herself smiling back. Fawley was like an overly-friendly puppy, and it was hard not to be charmed by the cute Healer.

They stopped in front of a metal door that had no handle. Fawley tapped the door with his wand. The door slid open, revealing a room containing six hospital beds, partition curtains, an assortment of armchairs, and a table that had the remains of a card game strewn over it. Six people—four men and two women, all dressed in hospital-issued clothing—turned their heads to the door.

From what Moon could gather, none of them were older than forty. The stress lines, scarring, and greying hairs were from the constant transformations. Some looked only mildly disheveled, others looked like they had been living in caves until recently.

"Hello everyone!" Fawley greeted cheerfully. "Thank you all for being here, truly, thank you. This lovely young lady here is Moon Blakesley—Moon, this is Elvira, Aldric, Owen, Claudia, Hektor, and Conner."

Fawley gestured to each of them as he said their names. Elvira, Claudia, Owen, and Conner smiled or waved in response, but Aldric and Hektor glared at her in disdain.

"This is the girl with the miracle cure?" Aldric, the oldest one in the room, asked sceptically.

"That's yet to be determined," Fawley laughed, although there was a hint of worry seeping into his voice.

"So you don't have a cure," Aldric stated gruffly.

"We're working on it. That's why you're here—"

"You mean to tell me," Hektor said lowly, "that you dragged us all here to use us as lab rats for a cure that doesn't exist yet?"

Fawley opened his mouth to speak, but Moon cut him off.

"If we didn't think that we had a potential cure, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Both men clenched their jaws, but said nothing. Fawley pulled out a chair for her and insisted that she sit down.

"Now, err," the Healer stumbled, having lost his previous steam, "we thought—or I thought, anyway—that we discuss potential methods to use the cure. All we know so far is that it can be absorbed through the skin."

"Why not inject it?" Moon asked. The seven people turned to her with varying looks of horror.

"Inject?" Elvira, a thin woman with patchy black hair, said shrilly. "You mean, those Muggle needles?"

"Well, yeah," Moon replied, confused. "You don't use needles?"

"Why would we?" Hektor snarled.

"It's barbaric!" Elvira exclaimed.

"Most potions can be applied topically or can be ingested," Fawley said. "Why Muggles insist on stabbing themselves, I don't know."

"When a medicine needs to be spread through the body quickly, it's easier to inject it into the bloodstream than to wait for it to take effect," Moon said. "It's also easier to calculate dosages."

"Didn't Grey—the first patient have the cure applied topically?" Fawley asked.

"Well, yes, but back then I was more concerned about not being slaughtered than finding a miracle cure," she said flatly. "Unless you're suggesting that I have Nihilego punch everyone in the throat, then I think we should try to use syringes at least once."

Everyone around her shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke for a moment. It was Aldric who finally broke the silence.

"I'll do it," he said gruffly. "You can try out any method you want if you think it'll work."

He said it so evenly that Moon almost missed the weariness behind it. She had known that lycanthropy wasn't a walk in the park; that it was brutal and exhausting, but actually seeing someone willing to try a taboo form of medicine on the off-chance that they are cured was eye opening.

"We can try different methods to figure out what works the best," she conceded, and everyone around her relaxed. "I'd like to get started as soon as possible."

"Excellent!" Fawley cheered as he jumped out of his seat. "We'll head to a lab—a place where we test new potions—and come up with some ideas."

"Right now?" Moon said, surprised. Fawley pulled her out of her seat and towards the door.

"You said as soon as possible," the Healer winked as they went back into the corridor.

"But—why can't we just come up with ideas in there?"

"Have you ever worked in a group of more than three people? Nothing ever gets done."

She would have liked to point out that she had collaborated with groups much larger than three people, but she couldn't begin to explain the complexity of the League system to this man. She struggled to keep up with Fawley as he speed walked through the hall. They slowed down as they approached the lift.

"The labs are down in the basement," he said as they waited. "They're not accessible to the public, but you're a special case."

The lift finally arrived, and three other Healers stepped off before Fawley and Moon were able to get on. Fawley tapped his wand twice against a panel.

"First Basement; Research Laboratories," he said in a clear voice. The lift jolted as it started to descend.

"Greyback hasn't been too happy," Fawley said conversationally. "We've had to restrain him to keep him in observation. The loss of his lycanthropy hit him hard."

"He's an exception," Moon said. "I doubt most werewolves actually want to turn into beasts with cravings for human flesh."

"Of course not," the Healer chuckled, "but you can't discount the fact that—whether or not these people actually enjoy being werewolves—they've been this way for a while. It's a part of them. It's shaped them somehow. Having it taken away from them can be frightening."

"What?"

"People with harsh illnesses—lifelong or terminal—sometimes start shaping their lives around their disease. People with terminal illnesses can become wilder, donating all their money or planning expensive trips just for fun. They'll do things they never thought they would do because it was inconvenient or dangerous.

"For people with diseases like lycanthropy, it can be a bit different. They'll seclude themselves because of Ministry laws and regulations against them. They won't hold jobs long enough out of fear of being found out. They'll be afraid to have friends or significant others because of their conditions."

Fawley's expression had grown dark. His deep brown eyes were scrunched as though he was recalling something unpleasant. The lift door slid open to reveal an empty hallway lit with flickering white light.

"The spell must be wearing off," the Healer muttered. "Better tell maintenance."

The two wandered down the hallway, passing by many locked doors. Each door was made of metal, had no window, and the space where the doorknob usually rested was instead replaced by a crimson circle roughly the same size.

"You'd think that there'd be an empty room," Fawley said, sounding much lighter, "but there are some people who come down here for… non-work purposes."

Moon raised an eyebrow at the man's sudden flustered tone. "Do any of these purposes result in problems in… say, nine months?"

"… How old are you again?"

"Thirteen," she stated. Fawley let out a long sigh without turning back to her.

"You're—you're not exactly what I'd call mature, but at the same time, you don't act like a thirteen year-old."

"Meaning?"

"You… I don't know… carry yourself like you're an adult."

She was going to ask what that meant, but halted when Fawley stopped in front of another door. The circle where the doorknob was supposed to be was a bright lime green.

"Room B120," he said, tapping his wand against the luminescent circle. The door swung open for them, and Moon stepped in after Fawley.

This room was lined with cabinets containing vials, tubs, and flasks of unidentifiable potions. Unlike the hospital rooms above, there was no sense of warmth or minor comfort. It was cold and sterile.

"These potions aren't actually potions," Fawley said. "They're bases. We use them when we need to make an antidote for venom. Usually we apply it directly to the wounds, so I think they'll work if you really want to try injecting the cure."

His face twisted in disgust at the idea. Moon ignored his reaction and rifled through her bag.

"I suppose you want to meet Nihilego?"

"What? Oh, yeah, of course," the Healer stuttered. Moon retrieved the beast ball, enlarged it, and released the Ultra Beast. Nihilego appeared from the shower of light, floating gracefully in the air.

"That's the thing that brought Greyback down?" Fawley asked sceptically.

"What were you expecting?"

"Something more fearsome," he said with a shrug. "That thing is almost cute."

"Since when did cuteness make something less dangerous? Or have you never met a cat?"

Fawley's mouth resembled a Magikarp's for a moment. He cleared his throat and turned staunchly to Nihilego.

"How much venom can it provide us with?"

"A fair amount, if we ask nicely."

"I'll get some vials, then."

He opened the cabinets with a flick of his wand and withdrew a crate of empty vials. He levitated the crate onto the countertop and pulled three out with one hand.

"Er," he mumbled, "can you get it to give the venom?"

Moon plucked one of the vials from his hand and moved over to Nihilego. The Ultra Beast hovered closer to her and offered one of its appendages. Moon held the vial underneath, and a watery, deep purple liquid started to slide off of Nihilego's limb in droplets.

One vial was filled, and then another, and another, and soon the whole crate had been filled to the brim with Nihilego venom.

"Don't touch it," Moon said briskly as Fawley went to pick up a vial. "The venom is absorbed through the skin. Use gloves."

"Why aren't you using gloves?"

"I've built up an immunity."

Or rather, her exposure to Ultra Space, countless Nihilego, and being repeatedly drenched in the venom had made her conclude that she was immune. She went over to a sink and rinsed her hands thoroughly of the purple venom. Fawley pulled on a pair of gloves and started to mix the contents of the vials with the base potions.

"So," Fawley conversed, "besides pouring the cure into a wound, I'm also thinking of inhalation and a topical treatment—don't give me that look, you said it's absorbed through the skin—and maybe a small dose to ingest. We'll be keeping watch to make sure there aren't any issues."

"What will you do when the full moon arrives?" she queried.

"Lock them in separate rooms and use as many wards as possible to keep them there. Monitor their statuses with more wards. The usual when a werewolf is brought in."

"Can't imagine it happens often."

"More often than it should," the Healer said. His voice was soft, but there was a surprising amount of rage behind it. Moon wanted to ask why, but spotted a clock hanging over in the corner of the room.

"I should be getting back to school," she said, returning Nihilego to its ball. Fawley nodded, capping off the flask he was working on and leading her out of the lab. He guided her back upstairs and through the Floo. Both landed in the empty classroom that they had left from.

"It's been nice working with you, Moon," Fawley said, once again cheerful. He mimed tipping a hat towards her before leaping back into the fireplace and vanishing. Moon was left alone, completely dazed and exhausted. She tilted her head towards the ceiling and let out a long sigh.

"I better get started on my homework."

 **Fawley's little spiel about terminal illness and lycanthropy is a mixture of stories I've heard plus the stuff I've read.**

 **Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon have just been announced. I'm really looking forward to them, but I have no idea what to expect. In all likelihood, they won't affect the storyline, but I still have to wait and see. A twenty second trailer doesn't show much.**

 **Review?**


	15. At the Castle

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Fifteen: At the Castle**

With the primary visit to St Mungo's out of the way and her homework completed, Moon spent the remainder of her weekend training with her pokémon. She refused to have them cooped up every hour of every day of every week. Doing so would mean having them grow stagnant in their ability to battle. Sparring against their teammates (and occasionally their trainer) was better than nothing.

Monday came too quickly for her liking, but it went by just as rapidly. Classes, while relatively interesting, started to blur together. Partly because Moon was anxiously awaiting another letter from Fawley, and partly because they had started to review things learned in previous classes. Transfiguration had lost its challenge, Charms was losing its appeal, Herbology was just an opportunity to chat with Slytherins in peace, and Potions mainly consisted of ignoring the feud between Malfoy and Potter.

The only three classes that hadn't grown boring were Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hagrid had managed to find a small flock of Golden Snidgets in the forest and had brought the class over to observe them. Trelawney wailed over Harry's imminent demise every class. Lupin had somehow managed make his classes continually interesting, moving between topics within a matter of days and rarely backtracking. Moon hated to admit that she was starting to enjoy those classes.

But even with Golden Snidgets and Red Caps and never-ending omens of death, the days turned into weeks, and Moon soon found Halloween creeping up on her, and with it the first weekend at Hogsmeade.

Moon arrived for Transfiguration with the Gryffindors to see Lavender in tears—apparently her pet rabbit had died, therefore completing Trelawney's prediction—and filed in with the rest of the class when McGonagall opened the classroom door. Hermione and Ron were both rather frosty towards each other for reasons unknown, and Moon winced when they sat on either side of Harry. Being stuck between two arguing friends could not be comfortable.

McGonagall stopped the class from rushing out when the bell rang and reminded everyone of the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. After assuring Neville that his grandmother had sent a form ahead of time, she dismissed the class. Moon overheard the trio whispering about something Harry needed to ask, but she didn't hang back to eavesdrop.

She didn't have to; an infuriated Ron, a smug Hermione, and a completely disappointed Harry filled her in over dinner. He hadn't gotten his form signed, as he had run from his relatives' home after an incident that ensured he would never get permission to head into the village (his words exactly).

"It's all for the best," Hermione said as she piled potatoes onto her plate. "With Sirius Black still on the loose, it's probably safer for you to remain here."

"It'd be safer if everyone remained here," Moon pointed out. "Having every other teacher wandering into the Three Broomsticks and all students third year and above exploring the village to their heart's content isn't the best idea when there is a mass murderer running around and a swarm of Dementors looking for another meal."

She prodded her food with a fork. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure Hogwarts is safe—"

"It's the safest place in Britain!" Hermione objected.

"A place where Black spent seven years of his life," Moon retorted. "A castle as old as this has to have some sort of secret passage out of the grounds. If Black could slip out of Azkaban without being detected, it's not so far-fetched to believe he can sneak onto the school grounds."

"Filch would have those passages guarded."

Moon suppressed an eye-roll before she turned to Harry.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not allowed to go to Hogsmeade either," she admitted. Harry, who had been stubbornly silent throughout the conversation, perked up slightly.

"Really? Why?"

"The trial run. I ended up hospitalizing someone, remember?"

His face flushed. "Right. Sorry."

She waved off the apology and finished her dinner before taking off from the Great Hall. She went to her room immediately, attempting to ignore every instinct to turn around towards the headmaster's office.

The next morning, Moon considered heading down to the library to do some studying. She wanted to get ahead in Transfiguration, as the material had started to progress in difficulty. As she approached the library, she heard a familiar, nagging voice.

"Well, get back to your common room where you belong!"

Filch; the irritating caretaker and archenemy of Peeves (and, by extension, Moon). She had only met the man once, which was far too often in her opinion. He was vile, cranky, and his only use was patrolling the halls with his cat. He was a nuisance, and frankly, Moon enjoyed irritating him whenever possible.

Moon pressed herself against the corner wall when she heard footsteps approaching. It wasn't until the person passed her that she saw who it was.

"Harry?"

He turned around, momentarily startled. "Moon? What are you doing here?"

"I was heading for the library. You?"

"Same, but—"

"Filch?"

"Yeah," he said. "Something like that."

She peeked around the corner. "He's still lurking there."

"Still willing to head to the library?"

"Not really," she sighed. "Might as well just head back to my room to study."

"I was thinking of taking a trip to the Owlery, actually. Studying isn't exactly what I wanted to do today."

"You have an owl?"

"Yeah," he said, a little more cheerful. "Her name's Hedwig. Hagrid got her as a present when he took me to Diagon Alley for the first time."

Several gears clicked in Moon's mind. She stood up straighter and looked Harry in the eye.

"When you're done with that," she said deliberately, "would you mind meeting me in the seventh floor corridor near the painting with trolls in tutus?"

"Er… okay, why?"

"You're bored, I'm bored, might as well let you in on one of this castle's secrets."

"What?"

"There's a secret room there. I'll explain later."

He considered the offer for a moment, and nodded. Moon smiled back, and the two parted ways. Harry headed up the staircase, and Moon went down the hall, deliberately avoiding Filch. As she headed up another staircase, she heard a familiar snickering.

"Morning, Peeves," she said cheerfully, leaning precariously over the railing.

"Loony-Moon!" the poltergeist greeted as he floated out from under the staircase.

"Making use of the empty hallways, I see?"

Peeves nodded enthusiastically.

"Should probably let you know that Filch is patrolling the area outside of the library. Probably one of the few places in the school that's peaceful… quiet…"

Peeves got the message and flew off in the direction of the library. Moon continued on her path to the Come and Go Room. With Filch fully distracted, most teachers spending their time finishing work, and the majority of students filed nicely into the library or the common rooms, she wasn't afraid of being spotted. She leaned against the wall, stared at the painting of Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls with amusement, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

She checked her watch. Unless Harry was having a lengthy conversation with his owl, he should have been there five minutes before. Moon was about to head up to the Owlery herself when she saw the messy-haired Gryffindor running down the hall.

"Sorry," he said as he reached the painting. "Professor Lupin—" the name sent a jolt of irritation through her, "—saw me wandering, and we ended up talking. Sorry I took so long."

"Did you even go up to the Owlery?" she asked, keeping her frustration out of her tone.

"Er, no. I didn't want you waiting here any longer."

"Do you still want to visit Hedwig?"

"I guess," he said apprehensively.

"We could go there now, if you'd like."

"Really?" he said, a little confused. "You said there was something here that you wanted to show me."

"It will be here when we get back," she reassured. "Besides, I've been meaning to send a letter."

That wasn't exactly true—she had been intending to send a letter later in the day to Fawley, but she was far more interested in the possibility of meeting Hedwig.

The Owlery wasn't the best place to have a conversation, as anyone could walk in at any moment, but with most of the students away from the school, Harry and Moon were relatively safe from prying eyes, save the dozens of owls gazing down on them. A snowy owl took notice of them, and glided down towards Harry.

"How've you been," Harry whispered as the owl landed in front of him. The owl hooted in response.

"This is Hedwig, then?" Moon asked softly after a moment. Harry only nodded, not even looking in her direction as he stroked Hedwig's feathers.

"She's gorgeous," Moon said gently. Hedwig preened at the compliment, eliciting laughter from both students. "And smart, too."

Moon removed the sealed envelope from her bag, and made to signal for one of the school owls. Harry, however, stopped her.

"Why don't you let Hedwig take your letter?"

She paused, looking at the dark-haired boy in surprise. "You wouldn't mind? She's your owl, after all."

"I don't send that many letters, to be honest," he said. "I feel bad, having her cooped up in here every day, but everyone I want to talk to is here at Hogwarts."

Moon nodded in understanding before handing the envelope over to Hedwig. The snowy owl took it and flew off.

"So," Harry said, "Barnabas the Barmy?"

The trip back to the portrait wasn't as long—whether that be because returning trips always appear shorter or because the castle was helping them along, Moon didn't know—but they soon found themselves standing in front of the dancing trolls. Moon began her pacing and her usual mantra, asking the room for a place to train. She knew the door had appeared when she heard Harry stumble back in surprise.

Rather than spending time explaining, she dragged her companion into the room by his sleeve. The boy didn't even have the chance to protest until he was in the room, where he was too stunned to say anything.

"Impressive, isn't it," she said. "The Come and Go Room. Has whatever you need, whenever you need it—within reason, of course."

"But…" Harry said, utterly bemused, "why would you need a place like this?"

 _To train my army of darkness_

"Privacy," she said. "I don't have a common room to practice spells in, remember?"

"Where do you sleep, anyway?"

' _Bit forward, aren't we?'_ Moon thought, suppressing a grin.

"There's a guest room that I'm using," she said. Harry stared at her curiously.

"Unless you're practicing spells meant for a duel, you could do the work in your own room."

"Well, I am practicing for a fight," she said. _'Not a battle you'd recognize, of course.'_

"But you wouldn't need all this space if you were practicing spells."

She froze. He didn't.

"If this room really gives you whatever you need," he said cautiously, "then, if you really wanted a room to practice spells in, you'd get books for research and some targets lined up for you. Not a big field with training dummies scattered across it."

His eyes met her own, and Moon nearly flinched in surprise. She hadn't noticed before, as she hadn't made an effort to have extended conversation with Harry (or anyone, for that matter), but his eyes—bright and green and intense and full of wonder—were exactly like Lillie's.

"What are you doing here?"

Maybe it was the curiosity in his voice that drove her to do it, maybe she secretly wanted to show off a little, or maybe she wanted to see if this strange boy with the lightning scar was like Lillie at all. She pulled out her six pokéballs, holding them up so that Harry could see them, before resizing them and throwing them in the air.

The usual reactions of her team were stalled when they spotted Harry. The six pokémon stared at the boy warily, which he returned with equal force.

"What… what are they?"

"Pokémon. Monsters that can fit inside your pocket."

Harry was being stared down by Lycanroc. "They are safe, aren't they?"

"Course they are, I trained them."

The rift between the groups was palpable. Harry was not convinced that the creatures were entirely safe, with their sharp teeth and claws. The pokémon were equally cautious of the young wizard. Moon eventually got tired of the silence.

"Come and say hello," she ordered.

Decidueye, as the leader of the group, approached Harry first. His wings were spread out wider than usual, giving him a larger appearance, and his talons scrapped against the ground. If one counted the feather sticking out from the top of his head, he was taller than Harry. It would be reasonable to assume that the young wizard was more than a little intimidated.

But, for some reason, Harry had relaxed since Decidueye approached him. He reached out, almost instinctively, and scratched the orange bow under the owl's beak. Decidueye clucked happily, leaning toward the wizard to nip affectionately at his hand.

"You're a natural," Moon said honestly, "he doesn't warm up that quickly with most people."

"Really?" Harry said, not flinching when Decidueye's beak pressed against his palm. "He seems friendly to me."

"Yeah, well, as I said, you're a natural. Most people don't figure out that Decidueye likes having his bow scratched. Usually they go for the head, and he does _not_ like having anyone getting close to that feather."

Harry removed his hand and took a step back. His eyes flickered between the other pokémon, resting briefly on Kommo-o and Silvally.

"Is this why you're so comfortable in Care of Magical Creatures?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious. She nodded in response, heading over to Lycanroc and scratching his chin.

"If you know how to act, you have nothing to fear," she said. Lycanroc lifted his head, whining contently. "Fear does not come from facing danger, but from facing uncertainty."

"Where did you get that from?"

"My mentor, and my friend," she answered. Her smile faded away as she remembered that she had been gone for three months.

' _Dear Arceus, Red must be worried. Everyone must be worried.'_

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, and Moon realized that she had spaced out.

"Nothing," she answered. Then, after a look of pure disbelief, "I'm a bit homesick, I guess."

"Because you're stuck here?"

The question threw her off. "What?"

"You're not actually from Hawaii, are you," Harry said with a surprising amount of conviction.

"What makes you think that?"

"You didn't get a form for Hogsmeade," he said with a shrug. "I don't know why you'd have to do a trial-run to go to a village when all you would need is for one of your parents to sign a form. And you wouldn't have had to arrive a week before school started."

"They wanted me to be familiar with the layout of the castle."

"They toss the first years in without any guidance."

' _Shit,'_ Moon thought, _'he's got a point.'_

"And these pokémon of yours, they're not like anything you could find in a book. The things you keep them in seem to be factory-made, and, well, wizards don't exactly mass-produce things the way Muggles do."

Green eyes met blue, and the two students found themselves completely silent. The pokémon stared at the pair of humans as though they were a part of a television show.

"Well someone'zzz been nosy."

Moon's eyes widened at the voice emanating from her bag. Harry was no less surprised.

"Who was that?"

Her bag jerked, and out flew Rotom, still attached to the pokédex.

"Greetingzzz," the spirit buzzed, "I am Rotom."

"But you—it—you talk!" Harry stammered, his eyes darting between the floating device and an exasperated Moon.

"Yes, they talk," Moon said. "Usually at inopportune moments."

"The kid'zzz already figured you out, anyway," Rotom whirred. "Not like I was wrecking anything."

Moon made eye contact with Harry again. "Congrats. You've figured it out. Sorry, no prizes."

"I—what?"

"As you correctly assumed, I'm not from Hawaii, or anywhere else you'd recognize for that matter."

She gestured to the seven pokémon in the room. "We all come from a place known as Alola. You wouldn't know about it, of course, because it's not on this planet."

"Not on this planet," he echoed. "So—you're an alien then?"

"I think I'm as human as you are," she said. "My father was a wizard, apparently, and went to school here some time before he ended up in Kanto and met my mother."

"I thought you said you were from… Aloha?"

" _Alola_ , but I was born and raised in Kanto. My mother left Alola when she was twenty and travelled around the world for nearly two decades before she met my dad."

Moon took a deep breath. She rarely divulged information on her family, mostly because the topic was still sensitive five years later. However, there was something about Harry that made talking easier.

"They hadn't known each other for a month when they got married. I don't think they would have stuck together for so long if I wasn't born less than a year later."

Lycanroc nudged her with his chin, whining slightly. She ran her fingers through the tufts of fur around the wolf's throat.

"They divorced when I was eight," she admitted. "I'm not exactly sure why; I never saw or heard them arguing, but they weren't happy together."

Moon sighed. "I haven't seen my dad since then."

"He hasn't visited you?" Harry asked, surprised.

"No. He's sent cards, presents, and calls once or twice a year, but he's never tried to visit me."

"Is he not allowed to see you or something?"

"Nah," she said calmly, still focused on Lycanroc, "I think he just doesn't want to deal with my mother."

"That's not fair to you though!"

His sudden sharp, angry tone shocked Moon. She looked over at him, wondering why the boy was fuming all of a sudden.

"You're still his daughter! He should at least _try_ to see you, not just send you a card at Christmas!

She couldn't think of any response to that, but with the way Harry was talking, she wouldn't have been able to if she had had the words.

"He could visit you anytime he pleased and he doesn't even bother to take a break to go and see his kid? Doesn't he know how _lucky_ he is?"

Decidueye cut him off with a short but gentle peck to his shoulder. In his short rant, his face had hints of red and his eyes held the sheen that signalled oncoming tears. Moon instinctively held her breath.

"It's not fair," he whispered. "It's cruel."

She found herself walking over to Harry, and the next thing she knew, she was hugging him as though he was a childhood friend. She was a few inches taller than he was, bringing his chin up to her shoulder.

"It's definitely not fair," she said gently, "and it is certainly not right. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care."

She heard him scoff, obviously not believing her.

"I believe he did what he thought was right," she continued, not necessarily speaking about her own father. "And he did it out of love. Because parents always love their children, no matter how far apart they are."

The first tears fell onto her shoulder without a sound, and Moon made no comment. Harry's own arms slipped around her shoulders as he returned the hug. Rotom returned to the bag, and the other six pokémon settled around them, lying down on the ground as the two humans embraced each other silently, offering comfort that could never truly be said.

 **Review and let me know what you guys think!**


	16. Defence Mechanism

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Sixteen: Defence Mechanism**

There were times that Moon hated being right, and discovering that a mass murderer could break into 'the most protected place in Britain' was one of them.

It didn't take long for the news of Sirius Black's break-in to circle around the school. The Fat Lady's portrait had been slashed beyond recognition. The portraits were all whispering and wailing, worried that they might be next. Every student had their own theory as to how the man had gotten in, ranging from Apparition to the ability to turn into a plant. Most theories were, of course, ridiculous and entirely impossible, as Hermione Granger liked to point out, but the fact was that Sirius Black _had_ managed to break into the castle despite the supposed security of the place.

Moon pointed out as much and earned herself a surprisingly fierce glare from the Muggle-born witch.

"I _told_ you that Filch would be covering all of the hidden passageways," the bushy-haired girl seethed. "Black couldn't have possibly gotten through them."

Moon refrained from reminding her that Filch was a squib who couldn't protect the castle from a stubborn stray dog, much less a murderer. She instead chose to stick to eating at the Slytherin table for the time being.

"Finally decided to drop Potter, Weasley, and the mudblood?" Draco asked during lunch the day after Halloween.

"Keeping my distance," she replied, ignoring the slur. She didn't believe it was right to insult someone based on blood status, but she wasn't in the mood to defend Granger or argue with Draco. "If Potter and his friends attract this much danger, I'd rather stay away."

"I thought you didn't have a sense of self-preservation?"

"You remembered. How sweet."

In reality, the main reason that Moon was keeping her distance was embarrassment. She couldn't really remember what she had been thinking when she decided to show off her pokémon to Harry. She doubted that he would go around telling everyone, but the chance that he would let her secret slip to Ron and Hermione was astronomical. And while Harry was observant in his own way, he was easily distracted. Hermione might try and figure out who Moon's father was, and that would open up a whole new discussion that Moon _absolutely did not_ want to have.

Saddling up to the Slytherins came with a barrage of downsides. The first Quidditch tournament of the year was approaching, and with the game being Gryffindor versus Slytherin, tensions were higher than ever. Despite the fact that she had no opinion on the game and wasn't even a member of the house, Moon found herself nearly falling victim to a few nasty stray jinxes. Attempting to fight back had resulted in her getting caught by Filch, and she ended up with a week's worth of detentions with Professor Snape. He was incredibly lenient due to the circumstances, and she used the time to finish her homework.

The few glimpses of Quidditch practice that she managed to catch were not as impressive as she had hoped. Even though the game was played on brooms, she had managed to appreciate the skill and strategy that went into it. Seeing specks of bright red trail out onto the pitch in the rain and mud, only to stand around for minutes before getting into the air, dampened her opinion on the game. She would still attend the game, but she wouldn't be cheering for any particular side and would be paying the least amount of attention possible. She had stumbled across a spell that made things waterproof, and she was determined to bring a book or two along with her.

Until a letter arrived.

Moon was deliberately avoiding another conversation about the upcoming Quidditch match when a letter from Fawley arrived. She tore off the wax seal and pulled out the parchment.

 _Dear Moon_

 _Good news; the cure works! Mostly._

 _Bad News; we need further testing, and we still have to keep an eye on our group. There's been some side effects that we need to watch out for. Some are more aggressive, some have mood swings, and some are heavily fatigued. I think it's based on how they took the venom._

 _We can't market it as a cure yet. To do that, we need to get rid of, or at the very least lessen, the side effects. I would like you to come over tomorrow so we can replenish our supply and discuss matters further._

 _Good luck with your schoolwork_

 _-Aidan Fawley_

"What's this about?"

She slapped the letter down on the table. Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"Is it personal?"

"It's private."

The blond opened his mouth to say something, but Marcus Flint was approaching. Flint laid a hand on the Seeker's shoulder, and dragged him off wordlessly. Moon doubted that the blond would even remember that conversation.

When Moon walked into the DADA classroom, she was surprised to see Professor Snape flipping through a stack of essays that sat on Lupin's desk. His eyes flickered toward her. She headed for a seat, carefully avoiding eye contact with the Potions professor. The rest of the class filtered in slowly, each person taking time to stare bewilderedly at Professor Snape before he glared back.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" a lone voice asked, and Moon didn't need to move her head to know that it was Hermione.

"Indisposed at the moment," Snape said. "I will be covering for Lupin for the time being, although with the… vast quantity of information that has been overlooked, it will be impossible to teach you all in one mere day."

Moon raised an eyebrow at that. Professor Snape's lessons during the summer had been highly informative, much more so than the curriculum required, but Lupin's classes had been on-par with the Potions professor's. There wasn't anything she could recall that had been left out.

Apparently, though, Professor Snape disagreed. He was of the belief that the material Lupin had taught them was below their grade level, and that they should have moved onto topics that wouldn't be covered until after Easter. The jabs against Lupin were blatantly obvious, but any defence was snuffed out immediately with a deduction in points and another insult. It wasn't until Harry stumbled in, ten minutes late and babbling some apology, that Professor Snape paused.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter," he drawled, "so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

"Where's Professor Lupin?" Harry asked, not even moving towards a seat.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," Snape said. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

"What's wrong with him?"

 _There are many things, and the full moon is just one of them._

Professor Snape deducted another five points before continuing with the 'lesson'. He brushed off Dean's defence of Lupin, claiming the man hadn't been expecting much of them. It wasn't until he directed them to the back of the textbook that Moon discovered what his plan was.

"Werewolves."

"But sir, we're not supposed to do werewolves yet," Hermione argued, "we're due to start Hinkypunks—"

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape said in an overly calm voice, "I was under the impression that I was taking this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."

No one moved.

" _All_ of you!" the professor ordered. " _Now!_ "

The class, with varying degrees of annoyance, opened their textbooks.

"Which one of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" Professor Snape asked. Hermione's hand shot into the air, same as always, but the Potions professor took no notice of her. Reluctantly, Moon raised her own hand.

"Miss Blakesley?"

"The werewolf has a few features that set it apart from a normal wolf," she said, "for example, the snout of a werewolf is much shorter than that of a true wolf. It also has a tufted tail, and human-like eyes."

"Correct. What else?"

"The thicker claws and the larger ears," she said, ignoring the way the class was staring at her.

"Correct again, although I am surprised that you are the only one who knows the material."

Shouts of dissent erupted throughout the classroom as Hermione Granger turned an impressive shade of red.

"Hermione knows more than any of us—"

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley," Professor Snape interrupted, a sneer settling on his face. "I recommend you begin reading before anything more drivel spills out of your mouth."

The class was spent in general silence, only breaking when a page was being flipped or Professor Snape made a disparaging remark about the quality of the essays he was marking. When the bell rang, the class rushed towards the door only to be stopped by the professor.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand."

Moon avoided joining in on the gossip sessions that followed. Unlike the Gryffindors, she didn't hate Professor Snape, and wasting time gossiping about how horrible he was wasn't a good use of her time.

That didn't mean she agreed with his behaviour.

Later that day, she was working on the essay that Professor Snape had assigned, flipping through all the books she had in her possession on the subject of lycanthropy, which was a considerable amount more than the average student. The Potions professor was marking another set of essays that were, judging by the way he was massaging his temples, written by incompetent Slytherins.

"So, do you dislike werewolves in general or is it just Professor Lupin?"

He raised his eyes from the parchment and gave her an appraising look. "You managed to determine Lupin's condition within a few hours. Impressive. What gave it away?"

"I've had reason to believe he is a werewolf for some time now," Moon said honestly. "Potter mentioned that you brought him a potion a few days ago. I presume that it was the Wolfsbane Potion?"

"Yes."

"If he was simply ill, he would have gone to Madam Pomfrey," she continued, "so I figured that for you to take the time to brew a potion personally, it would have to be extremely complicated and presumably expensive. I did some research, and the Wolfsbane Potion was one of the few that matched Potter's description of what you brought in. This assignment confirms it."

She scribbled down another line on her second piece of parchment. "So, is it all werewolves or just that one in particular?"

"What is the difference? Lupin is a monster, just like the rest of them."

"You believe all werewolves are monsters, regardless of their actions?"

"They turn into ravenous beasts that will devour anyone close by."

"Only on a full moon."

"They live on the outskirts of civilization," he said harshly. "They spend their weeks scraping together every available resource to waste on themselves between their transformations. They beg for charity one night and destroy lives the next. How are they not monsters?"

"I doubt that they choose their way of life, and choices say everything about whether someone is a monster or not."

She punctuated the remark with a sharp glare. Professor Snape did not waver visibly, but she could tell he was lost for words. She turned back to her essay.

"Werewolves are not cuddly creatures needing TLC, I know," she said. "But the strict rules and regulations, plus the social stigma, only further the behaviour you claim to be monstrous, sir."

Moon continued writing, and the Potions master focused on his own essays. She could hear the gears turning in the man's head, but she didn't dare ask a question.

"Will you be informing anyone?"

She paused, her quill held over the spare pot of ink. "Who is there to inform? All of the staff are aware, I presume, and slipping this detail to the other students would be cheating, considering that discovering Professor Lupin's condition was the point of the whole assignment."

She double-checked her grammar before handing Professor Snape the pieces of parchment. "I believe this should suffice. And my detentions are now officially over. Good night, professor."

Moon strode out of the dungeon, shoulders tensed and temper high. She had known the truth prior to the class, and most students were horribly oblivious when it came to interactions between the teachers, but it would only take one person slipping for there to be repercussions. She couldn't afford to let anyone slip on anything.

She had to stay on the lookout for people smart enough to discover what Professor Snape was really trying to teach them.

 **I'm getting tantalizingly close to finishing this story, and I'm close to the part that I've been wanting to write since I started this story. So do I continue on writing like a good author?**

 **No.**

 **I leave the chapter at 600+ words and go read a bunch of other stories, play my copy of Pokémon Sun, and just generally waste my time.**

 **That being said, I'm AM still edging towards a huge scene. I've had so many ideas as to how it could play out, and I'm starting to freak out because I don't know which one to pick.**

 **Ugh.**

 **Anyways, thanks for the 50 reviews! You guys are awesome!**


	17. Other People

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Seventeen: Other People**

"Sorry that I pulled you away from the Quidditch match."

"Don't be. I'd much rather be anywhere other than outside right now."

Moon and Fawley were sitting at a table, drinking tea and flipping through the assembled files on their test groups. The venom supply was restocked and waiting on a nearby shelf. They were reviewing the results of weeks of observation.

"Pouring venom into the bloodstream is a no-go?" Moon asked, fingers tracing over the section mentioning Aldric's reaction.

 _Patient noticeably more aggressive directly following treatment. Trouble understanding instructions for a week after first dose._

"I know that's what you were hoping for, but we can't have a bunch of aggressive semi-werewolves on our hands," the healer said. "Now, inhalation doesn't work at all, and having the venom absorbed through the skin uses roughly three times as much as any of the other methods. Ingesting it seems to be the most effective, but…"

"The fatigue experienced afterward lasts for weeks."

"It wears off eventually," Fawley continued, "but having someone bedridden for a minimum of a week with several more weeks of exhaustion following that doesn't sit right with me."

"Couldn't we just supply them with potions to treat fatigue and then send them home?"

Fawley rested his head in his hands, his brown eyes sharpening into a glare.

"Moon," he said slowly, "when this cure comes out, do you know what could happen?"

"A horrible disease gets eradicated?"

"The Ministry hates werewolves," he stated, "and even though things like the Wolfsbane Potion and safe houses exist, people need to register themselves as werewolves to access them. If they register, they immediately are banned from jobs with living wages, and most can't work at low-paying jobs either because the store owners are so bigoted. They are forced to choose between two different kinds of hell.

"Now, let's say we do go through with this method, having people on bedrest for weeks or on Invigorating Draughts. The Ministry is going to insist all werewolves on the Registry go to St Mungo's and get cured. Most of these people don't have homes to go back to, and so they'll have to stay here until the effects wear off. Meanwhile, the people not on the registry have to wait until there's a spot open, wait until an opportune moment when they can sneak in and admit they need the cure. They're pushed to the back of the line because they wanted to be treated as normal human beings."

The healer let out a long breath. "I don't want people to suffer longer than they have to."

Moon observed Fawley. Although a normally cheery person, he was prone to ranting, especially on the topic of werewolves. Most wizards and witches had a negative opinion on those with lycanthropy, but Fawley was almost defensive of them.

"Maybe we should start adding things to the venom," she suggested. "Powdered asphodel or moondew… things like that."

"Yeah," the healer said hoarsely. "Things like that."

The two began compiling a list of potential additions to the venom, crossing out some and scribbling others in the margins. Soon, it was time for Moon to return to the school.

"I'll write to you over the week," Fawley said, "and I'll let you know how the testing goes."

Moon was soon tumbling out of the fireplace she had been using to travel to St Mungo's. She brushed off the dust on her skirt and headed in the direction of the Great Hall, as it was nearly dinner. The people she passed in the hallway were whispering and muttering to each other, which she found odd.

 _Surely they would want to talk about who won the game? Most likely in loud, carrying voices?_

She had to strain her ears to catch the whispers, meanwhile trying to appear as though she couldn't hear anything.

"Most amazing catch since…"

"—show-off! He's always—"

"Fell nearly fifty feet, Clearwater estimates…"

"Did he not see the Dementors? He flew right into them, you can't exactly miss…"

Moon shuddered involuntarily. She hadn't experienced the effects of the Dementors first-hand, but she knew enough about the creatures to know that it was best to stay away unless absolutely necessary.

 _Gryffindor won, then. Draco wouldn't willingly fly into a horde of Dementors._

Her thoughts were confirmed when she entered the Great Hall. The atmosphere was tense throughout the room, but the Slytherins were obviously sulking over their loss. The Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and most of the Gryffindors were still whispering among themselves. Two figures at the Gryffindor table stood out with their silence. Moon found herself sitting down near Hermione and Ron before she realized that she had made the decision to ditch the Slytherins for the night.

"Is Harry in the hospital wing?" she asked immediately, reaching for her food without looking at the table. Hermione nodded, her stricken expression speaking for her.

"Dementors somehow got onto the Quidditch pitch," Ron said, "and the Snitch was in their path, so Harry went after it. It was like he didn't even notice the Dementors until…"

"He fell," Hermione said. "He fell fifty-eight feet, off his broomstick, with the Snitch in his hand."

"Dumbledore managed to slow him down," Ron added, "but he still hit the ground pretty hard. He hasn't woken up yet, either."

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said, "he shot some sort of spell at the Dementors to get them to leave."

"And Madame Pomfrey isn't sure when Harry will wake up," Ron said before spearing a carrot. "He _might_ be unconscious from a concussion, but it's probably because of those bloody Dementors. He passed out the last time too, and that was just with the one. There had to have been a dozen swarming him."

Moon's eyes flickered between the two Gryffindors.

"Do you two have any idea why the Dementors affect him more than anyone else?" she asked in a whisper.

Hermione shook her head. "He didn't want to talk about it after the incident on the train."

"Can't imagine why," Ron said wryly, "he only passed out after the thing tried to steal his soul."

"Even if he doesn't talk about what happened on the train, do you know of anything that happened before then that could have caused it?"

"Let's see," Ron said, setting down his fork. "One," he ticked off his finger, "he nearly got killed at the end of first year by the Defence professor. Two, everyone thought he was trying to murder Muggle-borns just a year ago. Three, he had to fight a Basilisk using a sword last summer, nearly got his arm ripped off. And he has to deal with his bloody relatives all summer, so there's that."

Moon raised an eyebrow. "What do you know about Harry's relatives?"

"They're awful and Harry's happy to leave them."

Hermione frowned at Ron's response. "They're the only family he's got left."

"I thought every pure-blood family was related to some degree?"

"Well, yes, but they're the closest family he has," Hermione said. "Even if they don't get along all the time, he's safe there."

"Is he?" Ron said. "I literally had to break him out of that house before second year. They put bars on his window and locked him in his room. And he just blew up his aunt a few months ago, although he didn't say why."

"Blew up?"

"Inflated," Hermione corrected, "like a balloon. She had to be Obliviated afterwards, she didn't know about magic."

"I thought you said she's his aunt?" Moon asked, perplexed.

"The woman isn't really his aunt," Ron said. "It's just what he was told to call her."

"And did he mention why he blew up his not-aunt?"

"Said something about her being horrible, but not much else."

"And why do you want to know so much?" Hermione asked.

"He's a friend," Moon stated, "and if one of my friends is being hurt, or is in danger, or is just unhappy with their home life, I'd do anything to get them away from that place."

Ron's face twisted into something that was half-amused and half-irritated. "Friend? You call yourself his friend? You go waltzing off with Malfoy whenever it suits you and ignore Harry for a week. Is that what you do to your _friends_?"

"I can spend time with whomever I like!" she hissed, doing her best not to attract attention from the other Gryffindors. "And so what if I haven't talked with Harry for a week?"

"Whatever happened between you two during the Hogsmeade visit affected him greatly," Hermione said, "And you avoiding him has made it worse."

Moon drew back. Harry's emotional state that day had been rather raw, but he had appeared fine when they parted ways for dinner. She hadn't considered that he was still frustrated after he had seemingly calmed down from the outburst.

"And he hasn't talked to you about it?" she questioned.

"He's been surprisingly tight-lipped about the entire thing," Hermione replied. "And you haven't been around enough for us to get answers."

Moon opened her mouth to retort, but closed it just as suddenly.

Harry, the kid who had grown up with exactly two friends, both of which were sitting across from her, hadn't said a word to either of them. She had been certain that they would know within a few hours, and had been avoiding them for that very reason. She didn't want to bother with the questions, the pestering, the prying…

 _But he hadn't said anything._

Which, in its own way, was almost worse.

Moon ate one last bite of food before standing up suddenly. The shock didn't register on the Gryffindors' faces until she was halfway out of the Great Hall. She could hear the commotion begin as she went out the door, but didn't turn around to face it.

Harry hadn't said anything about her past, but he hadn't talked about why he became upset, and so the other golden Gryffindors would look to her for answers. And while she was absolutely free to tell them about her history, she had no right telling anyone about the things Harry shared with her, intentionally or not. She was glad that the pestering she had predicted would not come about just yet, but now she was being sought out for answers that weren't hers to give.

Harry telling his friends about her situation would be a minor inconvenience, absolutely nothing in the long run.

Moon blabbing about how the Boy-Who-Lived had a minor breakdown on the anniversary of his parents' murder would cause even more damage to the already traumatized child.

 _Damn it! It's Lillie all over again!_

"Blakesley."

The sudden cold address snapped Moon back from her thoughts. Draco was standing across from her, without his bodyguards, with an impassive expression.

"Siding with the Gryffindors again?" he asked evenly. "They win a match because of a reckless Seeker, and suddenly you're on friendly terms with them?"

"I wanted to know what happened, and I didn't think you'd want to talk about the game."

"So you go to Potter's friends to learn what happened?" he said with a sneer. "Dementors got on the grounds, Potter was too stupid to notice and nearly broke his neck. End of story."

"I could have sworn that there was a part where Potter caught the Snitch, Dumbledore stopped him from breaking his neck, and Dumbledore having some sort of anti-Dementor charm."

"Why does that matter?!"

"The anti-Dementor charm or the Snitch?" Moon asked flatly.

"It was a fluke," Draco stated, not answering her question directly. "No one in their right minds would have dived into a horde of Dementors. There should be a rematch! But no, it was a _fair game_ , just because it's _Potter_ that caught the Snitch."

"And the weather ruined the game too, I suppose?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Draco frowned, causing every one of his sharp features to crease and tense. He had always appeared haughty with his 'pure-blood' looks, as many of the Slytherin girls referred to them as, but he had been friendly enough towards Moon that she hadn't thought much of it. Now, she couldn't help but notice that when Draco became truly angry—not pouting or attention-grabbing—he looked rather intimidating.

"Listen closely _Blakesley_ ," he said, "I don't know where you came from or who you're related to, but I know there isn't a single pure-blood family with your name."

"I am a half-blood and I admit that freely," she said.

"That's not something to be proud of," he replied venomously. "Your magic being diluted by Muggle blood is an awful thing. How do you expect anyone to take you seriously when you walk around with a name like that?"

"Plenty of the professors here are half-bloods, and everyone takes them seriously."

"Because they've earned their respect," he said. "Of course, there's a few who haven't, like that oaf Hagrid or Lupin."

Moon's jaw clenched. "And I haven't earned _respect_? Not even after I kept you from being mauled?"

"A Gryffindor act," Draco said. "Not exactly a good thing either."

"Fine," she said flatly. "Fine. Whatever. I'm a half-blood and too Gryffindor-ish for you to respect. But listen closely, _Malfoy_ ; your lineage is all that keeps people respecting you. Not because you are skilled or smart or funny, but because of chance. There's nothing that you have done that is worth respecting."

And with that, she turned her back on the blond Slytherin and stormed back to her private room. She knew deep down that she would have to pay for her remark in some way, but at the moment she didn't care. She was angry and fed up with how the boy would go around, blatantly insulting the people she had grown to care about and not having the decency to apologize once.

It was when she crashed on her bed that a feeling of loneliness started to seep in. She was arguing with all of her friends. Hermione and Ron wouldn't talk to her for weeks. Draco might not speak to her ever again. Harry, as forgiving as he could be, probably wouldn't want to see her either.

She sat up hastily and reached for her bag. After rifling around for a minute, she pulled out the stack of photos she had carried around with her since she began the island challenge. Some were pictures of random spots around Alola, most of them were her with her pokémon, but there were a few scattered around in the stack that she desperately wanted to see.

The first one she found was taken just after Hau had dragged her to a malasada shop. He had wrapped an arm around her shoulders and had taken the picture as she was biting into the pastry. Hau's crumb-covered face was split into a radiating grin. Her own face was partially blocked by the malasada, and the shock was barely registering on her face at the time.

She recalled mashing his second malasada into his face in retribution, which only caused him to burst out laughing. It had been an odd feeling then; she hadn't had any friends her own age before she moved to Alola, and being the cause of non-derisive laughter was a new experience.

The next picture was a nicer one. She was standing between Hau and Lillie, wearing her old red hat. Hau was grinning widely, and Lillie was smiling happily. Moon's expression was a simple, barely noticeable smile. The picture had been taken before Lillie's transformation.

Another picture was a group photo. Moon was surrounded by every other champion: Red, Gold, May, Dawn, Hilda, Rosa, Calem, and even Blue. It had been her first time meeting with the other region's leaders, and they made her feel like part of the group immediately.

She continued to pull apart the stack of photos, taking in every grin, every weird face, every instant of captured bliss, until her collection was spread out on the bed. The photos sat there, unmoving, and she stifled a laugh when she realized that she had gotten used to seeing moving pictures.

A tear slid down her cheek and splattered on one unfortunate photo. It was the oldest one she carried around. A seven year-old version of her sat between her parents. Her hair was done up in blue ribbons that matched her dress. She was grinning widely to show off her missing lower teeth. Her mother was sitting on her left, looking as elegant as ever. Her father, just starting to show wrinkles and greying hairs, was gazing at the two of them in adoration.

The thought that she might never see any of these people again chilled her. It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed her mind, but she hadn't taken the time to fully consider what it meant. Her family was gone. Her friends were gone. Even the pokémon she had managed to bring with her were only a fraction of the team she had amassed. She had been torn away from everything she cared about in an instant.

And, try as she might, she couldn't see herself finding anything to truly care about in the strange new world.

 **Early update because I won't be able to update on my regular schedule.**

 **I managed to just finish that chapter that I was talking about last week. 600 or so words is now about 3500, roughly. Amazing what some coffee and dedication can do.**

 **Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!**


	18. A Shot in the Dark

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokemon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Eighteen: A Shot in the Dark**

Moon spent the rest of the weekend in relative isolation. She did not want to confront the Gryffindors or the Slytherins, and so spent the meals with the Ravenclaws. Although they were all practically fountains of information, it got rather boring being lectured to outside of class hours.

Harry had woken up sometime in the middle of the night. Moon attempted to visit him, only to turn back when she spotted Hermione and Ron hovering by his side. They didn't seem to leave, either, and so Moon stayed away from the three of them.

She spent most of her time in the Come and Go Room with her pokémon to keep the loneliness from sinking in. As nervous as she was about confronting either of her friend groups, she was suffering from their absence.

"Ridiculous, really," she mumbled while stroking Silvally's fur during a training session. "I never needed anyone before."

It wasn't a stretch by any means. She had grown up without any friends her own age, she preferred to be by herself, and the few friends she acquired during her time as a trainer weren't constantly by her side. It was just her, her mother, and her pokémon.

"And I only have two of those things now."

The weekend passed without confrontation, and it wasn't until Monday that Moon willingly went anywhere with the Gryffindors. She kept near the back of the group as they flooded into the classroom after being given the all-clear. Lupin was at the front of the classroom, exhausted but smiling. Moon made a mental note as to how long the full moon affected the professor. She sat down with the rest of the class, keeping her own mouth shut when everyone burst out with scathing remarks about Professor Snape.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he set us homework?"

"We don't know anything about werewolves—"

"—two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin questioned, his brows creasing slightly. Everyone started talking again, and Moon tuned them out. By the sounds of things, no one had even tried to do the essay. Since Lupin was revoking the homework, no one would find—

"I've already finished it!"

Her eyes darted over to the smartest girl in Gryffindor, and she screamed internally.

The lesson on Hinkypunks might have been interesting if it wasn't for Moon freaking out. She appeared to be paying attention and mechanically took notes, but her inner dialogue consisted of a list of swear words she would never say in front of adults a second time. She couldn't properly focus knowing that Granger—possibly the most perceptive person in the school aside from her—had completed Snape's essay.

When the lesson ended, Moon ended up walking outside the classroom first and waiting near the doorframe. She waited until Granger stepped out and tapped on the brunette's shoulder. The girl jumped, startled to see who was poking her.

"Moon?"

"We need to talk," Moon said, reaching for Hermione's sleeve. "In private."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak when Ron exited the classroom. He saw the two girls standing huddled against the wall and gave them a questioning look.

Moon leaned forward, so her lips were nearly touching Hermione's ear, and whispered, "After you're finished with classes, meet me outside the Barnabas the Barmy portrait that has the trolls. Don't bring anyone."

Moon moved away from the pack of Gryffindors to go to her own classes. She caught Hermione staring at her throughout the day. The brunette always glanced away whenever she was caught. Moon found herself staring just as often, although she blamed it on wanting to check on Harry, who was hardly ever more than three feet away from the other two.

The brief stretch of time between classes and dinner came, and Moon was waiting outside of the portrait. Her first instinct was to pace until Hermione arrived or her shoes wore out, but another part of her insisted on waiting patiently. The second part eventually won out, and when Hermione found her, she was leaning against the wall, eyes closed as though she were asleep.

"The Gryffindor in you won out, I suppose?"

Hermione jumped. "You—you're—"

"Awake, yes."

"Then how—"

"I heard your footsteps. For someone who has sneaked around this castle so often, you don't seem to be trying to stay hidden."

Moon's eyes slid open to take in an annoyed Hermione. The corners of her mouth pulled into a smirk, which only irritated the Gryffindor more.

"Can you just tell me why you wanted to see me?"

"Not yet sweetie," Moon said, beginning to pace in front of the portrait.

"Then why—oh!"

The set of doors had finally appeared, startling Hermione. Moon took the opportunity and grabbed the brunette's wrist. She dragged the shocked Gryffindor inside the Come and Go Room. The room had taken on the form of a lounge rather than the usual training grounds she preferred. Red sofas were scattered around the room, with glass tables pressed against them. Blankets were piled up on the outer cushions along with pillows. A fireplace crackled on the far side of the room.

' _Probably close enough to the Gryffindor common room,'_ Moon thought. _'Although glass tables might be a hazard in such a place.'_

"Sit," she ordered as she released her grip on Hermione's wrist. She fell onto one of the couches, shifting her bag out from under her. Hermione slowly sank into the sofa opposite to Moon's, looking around the room in awe.

"What is this place?" the brunette asked.

"The Come and Go Room," Moon answered. "Or at least, that's what I was told it was. It changes into whatever the user needs, as long as they're specific enough."

"That's fascinating! An entire room hidden from the rest of the school. And it morphs into whatever someone needs?"

Moon smirked. "Figures you'd find it fascinating. And yes, it can change to practically anything you want it to, aside from a few things that would break magical laws."

"Like the five Principal Exemptions to Gamp's Law, you mean?"

"Something like that," Moon said.

The two fell into silence for a moment. Hermione's dark eyes were soaking in every feature the room offered. Moon was just enjoying not being so uncomfortable around the Gryffindor.

"So, do you mind telling me why you dragged me here?" Hermione asked. Moon put on her poker face before looking the brunette in the eye.

"Snape's essay."

Hermione's jaw twitched. "What about it?"

"You finished it."

"I do my homework."

"So do I," Moon said. She bit her lip before proceeding cautiously, "What did you think of the topic?"

"Werewolves? Bit far ahead in the curriculum, no matter what Professor Snape says."

"It was a rather sudden change in topic."

"It was like he was trying to hint at something," Hermione said evenly. Moon didn't say another word. She simply lifted one of her eyebrows, goading the other girl to speak. It took a minute for Hermione to crack.

"Professor Lupin's a werewolf, isn't he?"

Moon paused, and then nodded.

"What gave it away, specifically?" she asked the Gryffindor.

"Nothing in particular," Hermione answered. "Everything just sort of fit—him being sick, Professor Snape's behaviour… what about you?"

"Harry mentioned that Professor Snape brought Professor Lupin a potion," Moon replied honestly. "I was suspicious, so I did some research, and the Wolfsbane Potion matches what Harry saw. The essay was just further proof."

Hermione nodded. "And, of course, we're the only two in the entire school who did the essay."

"Pretty much."

"So we're the only students who know about Professor Lupin being… a werewolf."

"Yep."

"What do we do?"

Moon tilted her head. "Why should we do anything? Professor Lupin is using the Wolfsbane Potion, so he's not dangerous to anyone in the school."

"I know that," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "It's just—do we say anything to him?"

"Best not," Moon said decisively. "Someone could overhear us—imagine the backlash if word gets out that there's a werewolf working at Hogwarts."

"But he's not dangerous!"

"Doesn't matter. The people in power around here hate anything they can't understand unless they can exploit it."

"That's…" Hermione faltered, "that's… pretty accurate, actually."

The two lapsed into silence again. Moon curled up on the couch, allowing herself to relax.

"So we do nothing?"

Moon rolled her eyes beneath closed lids. "Absolutely nothing. Professor Lupin is, from what I hear, the best Defence professor in a decade. Best not to jeopardize that."

Silence again. After a moment, Moon heard Hermione standing up.

"Well, I don't really mind keeping this a secret. Thanks for the discussion, I suppose."

Moon nodded. "Anytime."

"… Moon?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you bring Harry here during the Hogsmeade visit?"

"Yes and no. I brought him to a different version of this room."

"Why?"

Moon's eyes snapped open, and her head rolled over so that she was staring at Hermione. "I had nothing better to do, he was stuck here because of his useless relatives, and I figured that I might as well show off."

"And why, exactly, have things been so awkward between you two ever since?"

"We talked, emotions were a little high that day, don't exactly want to follow up on that."

"… I see."

"What's it now?"

"You have no idea how to behave around other people."

Moon jumped and crashed face-first onto the floor. She scrambled onto her knees and gave Hermione an insulted look.

"What do you mean by that?" she tried to say harshly, but it came out as more of a squeal.

"I'm not an expert when it comes to making friends," Hermione said, "but you, for all your charm, have no idea how to act around other students.

"Take the way you act around Harry, for instance," she continued. "At first, you were doing fairly well. Harry doesn't talk to many people himself, so it's been odd having you join in on conversations so often."

"Sorry for intruding, then."

"No, not like that—it's a good thing, really. I like having you around. Evens things out a little more."

"Really?" Moon said incredulously. "I could have sworn that you were just tolerating my presence."

"What made you think that?"

"Whenever I talk, it's like you have to contradict me. Granted, my sarcasm doesn't help matters much, but I don't think that warrants you arguing with me every time I open my mouth."

"That's not…" Hermione stumbled, "I don't—you just—"

"Act so contrarily all the time?"

"Yes—wait, no—it's more like…"

"Like what?" Moon asked after a minute.

"Like you don't really want to be here."

Moon was surprised by the laugh that escaped her throat. There wasn't anything she found particularly funny about the statement itself, but it was Hermione's tone of disbelief—how could anyone not want to be at Hogwarts after all?—that was funny.

"I don't want to be here," she said honestly. "I want to go home."

"You're… homesick?"

"Yeah, you could call it that I guess."

"Have you tried talking to your parents?"

"Hermione, it's not that simple."

"Then explain," the brunette ordered, staring Moon down.

Moon told her what she had told Harry; where she was from, what she did, and how she ended up at Hogsmeade. She showed the Gryffindor the pokéballs, and the beast balls as well after some hesitation, but did not release them.

"And these pokémon willingly fight for you?"

"I suppose, but you could argue that they're fighting with me, not for me. I put a ton of energy into battling. Trust me, it's harder than just dishing out orders."

"And your education?"

"Ends when we turn ten, but there's secondary schools for those wanting to get into specific careers."

"But being a trainer is a career?"

"More like a hobby that finances itself until you get into a higher position. Still highly profitable if you're good."

Hermione, slightly dazed from all of the information, sank into the couch cushions. She started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Moon asked.

"You. This. Everything," Hermione said, rather inarticulately. "I don't see… it's hard to picture, being eleven and running around the country on your own. Making friends, exploring new places, being… free to do whatever you want. It sounds amazing."

"It is," Moon agreed, "and you can see why I'm not exactly enthusiastic about being stuck here. All of this magical stuff is great, sure, but being treated as though I were eight is rather taxing."

"I can't even begin to think of what that must be like. The teachers here expect you to be competent—most of them, at least—but going from being on your own to being a student here must have been a shock to you. And you can't talk to your friends at all?"

"Not as far as I know. My regular phone doesn't have a signal here, and Rotom does have a call-only function, but…"

"But…?"

Moon slowly released her breath. "I… haven't used it much. It's not really practical when you have another device that does that and video conferences."

"You'd forgotten about it until now."

"In my defence, there were a lot of other things on my mind," Moon argued.

"You didn't check."

"It's a Muggle device!"

"Piloted by a ghost, by the sounds of it," Hermione said. "Your regular phone might not work properly, but it might be worth seeing if Rotom's does?"

"And what if it doesn't?" Moon asked, her voice softer than normal.

"Then you will have lost nothing."

Moon's bag jostled, and Rotom tugged itself free.

"She's right, you know. It'zzz worth a shot," the orange pokédex chirped.

Moon reached out towards Rotom and opened the call function. She dialled the first contact she could think of—Red.

The sound of a phone ringing echoed across the room. Both girls held their breath in anticipation. Moon's hands shook slightly, and she rested her arms on her knees to steady them.

Reaching Red—reaching anyone from home—would mean everything to her, even if it was just the one call.

But the ringing continued again and again, until it had chimed ten times.

The call cancelled itself.

"That's…" Moon whispered, "that's what I thought."

She had thought it was pointless, but she had tried it anyway. She had hoped that she could hear her friends' voices, but her chances were gone.

"I'm sorry, Moon."

"It's not your fault," Moon muttered, not looking at the Gryffindor. "It's what I expected. Hogwarts and Muggle technology don't exactly mix—"

Moon's words were cut off by the sound of a phone ringing.

Her eyes darted towards Rotom. Instead of the blank screen it had been displaying for months, two words were glowing in yellow font against a dark grey background.

 _Incoming call_

The ringing started again, and Moon hit the button to accept the call. Her hands trembled when she was met with a few seconds of static silence.

"Hello?" a familiar voice said. "Moon, are you there?"


	19. Places to Be

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Nineteen: Places to Be**

"Moon?"

She didn't know how to respond.

Something so simple—something so _easy_ —had been following her around this entire time. She could have gotten a hold of any of her friends at any time, but she had been too caught up with her new life at Hogwarts and everything that came with it. She hadn't even been trying to think of a way to get back home.

"Moon?"

"Red?" she said in a tremulous voice.

A shaky breath came from the speaker. "You're alive. Arceus, you're alive…"

"You should know that I'm not that easy to get rid of," Moon joked, although the humour was lost because of her pained tone.

"Moon?"

"Yeah?"

"Where… on Earth… have you BEEN?!"

Red's voice had rapidly risen to a shout, causing Moon to fall backwards onto the armrest and lose her grip on Rotom. The orange pokédex floated in the air near her face.

"WE HAVE BEEN SEARCHING EVERY CORNER ON THIS ARCEUS-FORSAKEN PLANET, LOOKING FOR YOUR SORRY ASS, SINCE THE START OF AUGUST! THREE AND A HALF MONTHS, BLAKESLEY, THAT'S HOW LONG YOU'VE BEEN GONE, AND AFTER ALL THIS TIME, YOU THINK TO MAKE A PHONE CALL NOW?!"

Red paused for breath, and Moon took the opportunity to speak.

"To be fair, I'm kind of stuck."

"… Stuck?"

"Yes, stuck. Trapped. Confined. Unable to get away from here."

"I know what stuck means, Moon," Red said irritably.

"Well, at any rate, I'm stuck here until someone finds a way to get me back to Alola."

"And… where are you, exactly?"

"Britain."

"… What?"

"It's also called the United Kingdom."

" _That is not helping, Moon._ "

"Given that you've searched every corner of the planet—I'm touched, by the way—and that I've named a place that is not on any map you'd recognize, I'd have thought you would have pieced it together by now."

The phone went silent. Only the small whispering of static confirmed that the call was still going.

"Is this some sort of complex prank?" Red said evenly after a moment. "Because if Blue put you up to this, I swear I'm putting you both under house arrest when you get home."

"I wish I was joking, but no. I'm literally on a different planet."

A deep breath from the other end. "…That… explains a lot, actually. How are you calling me, then?"

"I'm using Rotom right now. Maybe it can bend the rules slightly?"

"You… know what? Screw it, dimensional travel is Dawn's area of expertise, not mine."

"At least you acknowledge your weaknesses, unlike some people."

"Speaking of Blue, he's taken over your job for the time being."

"Really?" Moon laughed. "How's he taking it?"

"Aside from the weekly dramatic breakdowns, fairly well."

A small cough brought the conversation to a halt. Moon glanced up at Hermione, whose face was slowly turning pink.

"Sorry," the Gryffindor said, "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Who's that?" Red asked.

"Hermione," Moon answered. "She's… a friend."

Although the word came out normally, it felt weird on her tongue. Associating the word friend with the girl who had chewed her out on more than one occasion made Moon pause, and yet she could think of no other word to describe their relationship. Not after the girl had given her a lifeline.

Hermione moved over next to Moon and closer to Rotom. "Er… hello?"

"So, you're Moon's friend?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, and yes, I'm her friend."

"Well, thanks for helping Moon out, Hermione Granger. My name is Red."

"It's a nickname," Moon said after seeing Hermione's confusion.

"Better than my real one," Red commented. "But that's not what's important. Real question: where did you end up that you'd make a friend your own age? No offence, Miss Granger, but you sound young."

"What?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I mean, Moon."

"I have friends my own age, Red."

"You have three, and you met two under extremely stressful circumstances, and the third through good timing. Forgive me, but I don't believe you'd go out of your way to talk to other thirteen year-olds."

"I-I…" Moon stuttered. She knew that the Statute of Secrecy was taken very seriously, and exceptions were only made when there was no other choice. She would have no problem with explaining her situation, but anyone else would look at it as her breaking the law. Being fined or incarcerated wasn't something she could afford. She didn't have a choice.

She _hated_ not having a choice.

"I'll call you back."

"What? Moon, wait—!"

She hung up. Within seconds, Rotom's call function was ringing again, but she declined the call.

"Sorry Rotom," she said, "but I need you to get in the bag."

"You just found a way to speak with Red, and the first thing you do izz hang up?"

"Rotom. Bag. Now."

The machine grumbled, but slipped into the bag without much protest. The bag buzzed a moment later as Red attempted another phone call.

"Why'd you hang up?" Hermione questioned, starting when Moon moved to stand.

"How am I supposed to explain all of this," Moon said with a wave of her hand, "when saying anything of the sort to a Muggle without approval is illegal?"

"Well, it is, but it's not like anyone would find out."

Moon paused to look at the brunette. "Did you… just actually… encourage me to break the law?"

"The Statute of Secrecy isn't a law I particularly like in the first place. Plus, I would say that you connecting with your friends is more important."

"Great idea in theory," Moon said, "but, considering that they've been searching high and low for me and that there are virtually no laws—man-made or natural—stopping them from coming here to get me, I want to try to cover my bases and do everything as legally as I can."

"What?"

"Just—follow me," she said, rushing out of the Come and Go Room.

Her robes were rippling from the speed she was walking at, a pace and posture that would make her appear to be gliding across the floor if her skirt ended at the floor and if her shoes didn't hit the stone hard enough to cause an echo in the corridor. Hermione had to run to catch up to her, but Moon didn't slow down. When they reached some of the hallways with more students, she sped up to a run and wove her way through the open gaps, causing Hermione to lose track of her. Some students turned their heads as she passed, but she paid them no mind.

She skidded to a halt in front of the statue guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office, only to recall that there was a password needed to open the entrance. It surely couldn't be the same one each time?

"Crystallised Pineapple," she tried, but the statue stayed still.

"Sherbet Lemon?" she guessed, remembering the bowl she had seen on the headmaster's desk. But the statue did not move.

"Fizzing Whizbees?"

The gargoyle moved aside, allowing Moon access to the staircase. She jumped up the moving steps, nearly falling over once and just managing to brace herself with the wall in time. She stumbled into Dumbledore's office, clutching her bag.

"Miss Blakesley?" the headmaster said, "I'm always glad to have visitors, but I haven't seen many student dashing into my office without warning."

"I found a way to speak to them," Moon said, "My friends, back home."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Rotom can contact them, but… I don't know if I'm allowed to say anything."

Dumbledore's expression smoothed out, and Moon couldn't help but notice that it looked like the blank mask she wore when she didn't want anyone to know what she was thinking. His was a lot calmer, a lot more relaxed than hers, but it was still a mask. There was no way the gears in the old man's head weren't turning.

"Please, take a seat, Miss Blakesley."

Moon slowly sat down on the cushioned seat across from his desk. Her eyes were drawn to a bowl of yellow candies—sherbet lemons. Dumbledore took one before offering the bowl to her. Moon took one of the candies herself and ate it immediately. It might have been rude, but she felt like she needed to focus on something to calm down, and the candy was already there.

"Now, would you care to explain what you were saying?"

"Hermione and I were talking about… the place I came from," Moon said, "and she asked if I had any way of contacting my friends. I said no at first, but when I thought about it…"

"You remembered something," Dumbledore completed.

"We managed to make a phone call to a friend of mine," she continued, "but he was wondering where I was and… it's not like I can say I'm at a school of magic, right?"

A look of contemplation crossed the old headmaster's face. "Exceptions can be made to the Statute of Secrecy, but only on rare occasions."

"Besides immediate family?"

"That is the main reason, but information can also be given in extreme situations. I do believe inter-dimensional travel falls underneath that label."

She nodded, before pulling Rotom out of the bag.

"Sorry about that, buddy. I need to call Red now."

"I'm not the one thatzzz going to be angry with you," Rotom said, sounding miffed anyway. The call function was fired up, and within second, sound was pouring out.

Except it wasn't just Red screaming.

"I _cannot_ believe you—!"

"—Gone for months!"

"The first thing you do is hang up on me?! Really?!"

"Would everyone be quiet?" Moon ordered, irritated and overwhelmed at the same time. "I know you've all been worried—"

"Understatement of the century," Blue's voice chimed in.

"—but I've sort of had a complete destruction of everything I thought I knew about myself and there was a slight possibility of me being legally obligated to not tell you about half of it."

"Ah, yes," a voice that sounded like May's drawled, "legal obligations. Because we all know how much you enjoy doing things safely and correctly."

"You're one to talk, Miss I-Fought-Six-Dragons-at-Once-With-Another-Dragon."

"Pardon me," Dumbledore said, a little louder than his usual volume, "but there are plenty of things we have to discuss."

"Who is that?" another voice—Dawn's—intoned.

"Er…" Moon hesitated before turning to Dumbledore. "Hermione's probably screaming at the gargoyle now, sir. Should she be allowed in on this?"

"I suppose she could be, if you have deemed her trustworthy for this matter," Dumbledore said, standing up from his chair. "I will let her in."

Although she suspected he could still hear her when he was on the staircase, Moon waited until the headmaster was out of her line of sight to begin talking.

"Long story short, I'm a witch and I'm at a magic school," she said in a hurry not to be interrupted. "And _don't ask me what drug I'm on, Blue_."

"I wasn't going to ask—"

"Yes you were," Moon and Red stated at the same time.

"In his defence, it was a rather odd statement," Dawn said, and then Moon heard a mumbled, "I can't believe I just defended you."

"I'm a witch," Moon repeated, "my father is a wizard from a different universe, I somehow fell into this universe while trying to sabotage a group of Neo-Galactic grunts, and now I'm attending a school for witches and wizards."

The line went silent, and Moon heard two pairs of footsteps walking into the office. She knew without turning her head that Dumbledore and Hermione were watching her, and waiting for a response with her.

What she did not expect was the sudden outburst of laughter.

"What's so funny?" she said, half-shocked that the others would find her situation humourous.

"You," Blue snickered, "in a _school_ of all places!"

"I've been to school before, Blue!"

"How many heart attacks have you caused so far?" May chuckled.

"None!" Moon yelped. "I—okay, I did hospitalize one guy, but—!"

"That's our little girl!"

"Not helping, Blue!"

"This isn't really all that funny," Dawn said. "What are the chances that we will actually be able to find you now? I doubt that we can just walk in and retrieve you if there is magic involved."

The other end of the line went quiet, and Moon could picture everyone's faces going blank in concentration, as they all did when they were thinking.

"If I may speak," Dumbledore said, drawing Moon's attention away from Rotom, "it would seem that, despite the many layers of enchantments that normally prevent technology from working in magical areas, this device has managed to bypass those boundaries and reach you across dimensions. Whatever technology your people possess is far beyond what non-magical people have achieved on our side. I will be willing to assist you in finding a way over to our world."

"And who might you be?" Dawn asked pleasantly.

"Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he replied. "I have been communicating with our government and a few specialists to see if there are ways to bridge the gap between our worlds, even temporarily. It has been deemed possible to travel between dimensions, but any method as to how to do so is still theoretical at best."

"It isn't necessarily difficult to travel between two dimensions at random, but linking two together is far more complex," Dawn said. "Even locating the one you're currently in will take a month if we devote every waking minute to it."

"What do you mean by link?" Moon asked.

Dawn sighed. "Accidental dimensional travel usually occurs when the conditions—time, space, all that fun stuff—are perfect. Trying to _force_ those conditions usually results in…"

"Massive explosion?" Blue supplied.

"Well, yes, I suppose that's a simple enough explanation," Dawn continued. "You said you were with Neo-Galactic grunts?"

"Yeah?"

"Was there anyone else around when you arrived in your current dimension?"

Moon's stomach twisted uncomfortably. "No. There weren't any people. It was just me and my pokémon."

"You were lucky. You could have died, or worse."

"Worse than death?"

"You could have had your consciousness stretched across every reality, experiencing every timeline simultaneously, without being able to interact with it. You would have lost your mind in seconds."

Moon shuddered involuntarily. "Mew, thanks for the mental image, Berlitz."

"Anyway, we can't go charging through every little dimensional tear and hope for the best. It would take centuries. Dumbledore, sir, if we had a chance to discuss this matter with your specialists, I think the entire process of establishing a link between our worlds could be done in under a year."

"I have no problem with that," Dumbledore said, "but the only method of communication we currently have is through this device."

Silence filled the room, even though Moon's brain was storming. She understood that if she wanted to get home, she'd have to rely on her friends and the experts, and for such a thing to work they would need Rotom. That did not mean she wanted to give up her companion.

"Moon, I know what you're thinking," Red said suddenly, "and yes, letting go of Rotom for the time being is difficult—"

"Difficult doesn't begin to cover it, _Ashton_ ," the young champion seethed. "Rotom's not just some AI guide. You're telling me to put my friend in the hands of people who I haven't even met. I can't replace him like some machine!"

"You will get Rotom back, pokédex and all," Dumbledore stated. "Even the most technology-fearful wizard would not damage the device they need to complete a task. And if anyone attempts to harm Rotom, they will have to answer for it."

That would mean nothing in the end. Giving up Rotom not only meant giving up her friend, but also giving up her link to everyone else. The short conversation she had was composed of yelling and trying to figure out how to get home. There was no talk about how life had been, from her or from her friends. She wanted to tell them about Hogwarts and magic, and she wanted to hear about what was going on in their lives.

"Moon."

Rotom's eyes had opened, and the pokédex was staring back at her.

"I don't mind going if it helpzzz you."

"I mind," she said stubbornly.

"Of course you do," the pokédex replied. "You've alwayzz tried finding the answers and solutions yourself without asking for help, but girl, you are in way over your head here. This is a lifeline. Take it."

"Rotom…"

"Take it or I swear I'll delete your recorded entries."

She laughed half-heartedly. "All right."

"We'll try sending you a message later on," May said, sounding more serious than before.

"If they don't deliver the messages, we'll just keep making them weirder and more frequent," Blue added.

"That a tried and true tactic, I'm sure," Moon chuckled.

"We'll be talking again soon," Red promised. "In person within a year."

The conversation was ended with a short goodbye—Moon wouldn't have been able to handle a lengthy one—before she reluctantly handed the pokédex over to Dumbledore.

' _I'll be home within a year,'_ she thought. _'By next November or sooner, I'll be back in Alola.'_

 **I was surprised with the response to the last chapter. Perhaps I should have more cliff-hangers.**

 **All joking aside, this chapter wasn't something I had planned from the beginning. I was originally intending the introduction of more Pokémon characters towards the end of the story, but I felt like that would be a huge gap. Rotom being able to call the other champions was a good way to bridge that.**

 **Of course, the next thought to pop into my head was that the meanest thing I could do mid-story was take Rotom out of the picture. Sending Rotom-dex to the Ministry to act as a communication device between dimensions was the most logical option.**

 **Last thing; has anyone experienced a strange… quirk with their word count in the Documents section? Previous chapter had 2551 words according to my counter. I submit the chapter to my account, scan through it, click save, and end up with 2640 words. I didn't write anything extra, but 89 words appear out of nowhere. Has anyone else experienced this?**

 **Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter.**


	20. Distractions

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Twenty: Distractions**

Despite all the reassurance she received from both Hermione and the headmaster, Moon couldn't help but worry about Rotom. The pokédex had been taken to some unknown part of the Ministry of Magic, where it was being used as a communication device. It felt strange—knowing that Rotom wasn't safely tucked away in her bag—and Moon found herself distracted by it on more than one occasion.

That was not her only distraction, of course.

Hermione had continued speaking with her, drawing Moon away from her musings, and asking various questions about her life in Alola. Harry had also been curious, once Moon started speaking to him again.

That, of course, meant Ron was invited into the conversations.

It was strange, since he had been the first of the three to speak to her, that he was the one to learn about her life last. The ginger's reaction was no less amusing when she dragged them all into the Come and Go Room to show off her pokémon again.

"They're…" Ron said, both impressed and intimidated, "they're…"

"Amazing?" Moon said. "Astonishing? Gorgeous?"

"Something that Hagrid would like," the redhead said instead. Harry and Hermione laughed in agreement, while Moon huffed. The young champion turned to Lycanroc.

"Well, I certainly think you're gorgeous," she said, scratching the wolf pokémon under his chin gently. Lycanroc whined happily, tilting his head upwards. "Although I might just be biased."

"So, let me get this straight," Ron said, drawing his eyes away from Silvally and focusing on Moon. "You're from a different universe, you have a wizard father from here, and you train magical creatures for a living."

"Sounds about right."

"What did you say your father's name is?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't," Moon replied tersely. "Doesn't really matter—not like he's around all that much."

Deterring Hermione from asking for information about her family wasn't as difficult a challenge as she had feared, but it was a never-ending one. Every few days, the brunette girl would ask a question, drop a hint, or do something to bring the topic up. Moon would halt the conversation, suggesting that the man's absence was the reason she refused to talk about him. If she was lucky, Harry and Ron would ask another question and allow the conversation to continue.

"What's Alola even like?" Ron asked, practically on cue.

"Hot, for starters," Moon said with a laugh. "Much hotter than here. Not counting Mount Lanakila, of course, because the entire place is covered in snow and ice year-round, but this place is still colder than what I'm used to.

"Four major islands make up the region—Melemele, Akala, Ula'ula, and Poni—and every one looks a little different. Melemele is a major tourist destination because of the beaches. Akala has its own resort, but it's mostly known for the jungle and the volcano. Ula'ula is a bit more urbanized, but there's still untouched deserts and two ghost towns. Poni Island is the most rural, and the pokémon there are the toughest you can find. Some areas are off-limits for trainers who haven't proven their strength."

"It sounds awesome," Ron said. "I'd like to run around the country winning fights, not having to get up early for classes…"

"Honestly, Ron, it's probably not that glamourous," Hermione said, eyeing Moon for confirmation.

"It's certainly not for everyone," Moon agreed. "There's a lot of camping involved—I'm not sure how well you'd settle into that sort of lifestyle."

Her hand dropped away from Lycanroc's chin. "Alola used to have a different system called the island challenge, where trainers would go through trials—difficult puzzles or other challenges, usually while getting into pokémon battles—and eventually defeat a powerful pokémon known as a 'Totem Pokémon', which is a larger and stronger variation of a normal pokémon. Trainers had to challenge the Island Kahuna in a Grand Trial and win a battle before they moved on to the next island. After they completed all the trials, they were expected to head to the top of Mount Lanakila, win four successive battles against the Kahunas, before taking the title of Island Challenge Champion.

"Of course, this was being overhauled when I was going through the island challenge," she said cheerfully, stepping closer to Decidueye. "They were trying to start implementing an official league, which is a vastly different system from the island challenge. I was allowed to face the Elite Four because they hadn't set up any gyms yet… and I still managed to win, and no one managed to beat me in an official title match, so I'm still the first and only champion of Alola."

"That's really impressive," Hermione said honestly. Moon nodded, reaching her hand out to scratch Decidueye's bow.

She had skimped on giving out information about what the leagues were really for. It was easy to paint them as the overseers of pokémon trainers and nothing more. Nothing more complicated than people who set up Quidditch games.

Explaining that the leagues were the entirety of the government on top of that would be a tougher sell.

 _Especially_ explaining how she, at age eleven, managed to manoeuver her way to the top of said government.

The idea that anyone under the age of seventeen was capable of more than the schoolwork set for them seemed to be a complete impossibility for the magical community in Britain. Moon had been a little miffed when she learned that students were accepted into Hogwarts at the age of eleven, practically a full year after the mandatory schooling in the regions finished. At a time where people were working, training pokémon, or going into higher education, the 'underage' population of Britain was being treated like nine year-olds.

Or at least, treated as she had been when she was nine.

Moon briefly considered telling the three Gryffindors the truth—that she held a position equal to Minister for Magic—just to see what their reactions would be. She shook her head a moment later; it was a silly idea. Even if they, for some reason, believed her story, she'd be asked more questions than she could answer. If the information slipped to someone else somehow, the chances of her getting a moment of peace would dwindle to nothing.

The meetings between the four of them slowed down as the holidays approached. Moon received a few more letters from Fawley, informing her of his progress but still not calling her back to St Mungo's. It was hard to tell from the letters, but she got the feeling that he was getting worn out from the work.

She herself was getting worn out by the schoolwork assigned to her. Even if she was comfortable with writing a few essays at once and reviewing half a dozen spells, it got tiring after the nth hour of doing so. Not having to attend classes would be a welcomed break.

It was the last day before the holidays that anything of real interest happened. Everyone was excited about the Hogsmeade visit, except her and Harry. Mail that morning proceeded as usual, with last-minute letters being dropped off to the students going home for Christmas. Malfoy got a particularly lengthy letter, presumably from his father judging from how there weren't any gifts to go along with it.

She headed for the Come and Go Room immediately after breakfast, deciding to get some training done early. After sending everyone out and dealing with the initial dog piling, she directed Lycanroc to stand facing her while the other five remained on the sidelines.

"Alright, boy," she said with a lopsided grin, "ready to fight?"

Lycanroc's teeth were bared, and the wolf pokémon lunged at her. Claws swiped near the air around her face. She moved back. Her own hand took an equally ineffective swipe at her sparring partner.

Sparring with pokémon wasn't the safest training method, but Moon found that nothing could ever replace it. It was the easiest way to understand precisely how her pokémon fought, how they dodged, how they faked blows and so on. It created a deeper bond between her and her pokémon.

It also had the side benefit of an adrenaline rush.

It wasn't until she caught Lycanroc in a bear hug that the fight ended. The wolf pokémon licked her ear, leaving behind a trail of saliva.

"Bleh," she muttered, wiping her ear with her hand, "you're ridiculous, you fur ball."

Moon eventually called for the training session to end when she saw her pokémon getting tired. She recalled her pokémon to their pokéballs before changing back into her school clothes. She didn't necessarily have to—it was not a school day, and the uniform wasn't mandatory outside of school hours—but her sparring clothes were covered in sweat, and weren't exactly adequate for winter. In Alola, short shorts and thin skirts had been useful for dealing with the heat. Not the case in Britain.

The Come and Go Room disappeared behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. Moon briefly wondered why Harry hadn't come by, as he wasn't allowed in Hogsmeade either. She shrugged it off, assuming that he was busy eavesdropping on some conversation, and carried on down the corridor.

Hogwarts was a little quieter than it was during the first Hogsmeade visit, as most of the older students who had stayed behind the first time decided to go out shopping for Christmas gifts. Many professors had also left the school for similar reasons. That being said, Moon was not surprised when she heard footsteps coming towards her from around the corner.

She was surprised when she saw Lupin, and nearly crashed into the man because of it.

"I…" she faltered. Damn it, she didn't want to talk to him. "Sorry, professor. I must've not been paying attention."

"That's alright, Moon," Lupin responded. "I must admit, I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going, either."

Moon hoped that that would be the end of the conversation, but just as she took a few steps to continue on her path and hopefully escape to the library, Lupin stopped her.

"Professor Dumbledore told me about your situation a few days into the school year."

She froze. Her initial reaction was to become furious—the man had claimed that he wanted her to speak to Lupin, he had not right to go back on that without telling her—but something in the way the professor spoke kept her from getting angry.

"I can understand what it's like, being separated from everything you knew and found comfort in," he said honestly. "If… if you ever feel like you need to discuss something, my office is free."

Relief hit her like a wave. Dumbledore hadn't told him about their father, or their shared DNA, or anything of the sort. The man had just let him know what all the other teachers knew at that point.

"Thanks, sir," she said, giving a small smile. Lupin nodded before continuing down the hallway.

 _'That did not go well,'_ she thought miserably. _'You froze. You were too informal. He has no idea what's going on, so you have to act like you don't know anything—'_

She leaned against a wall, forcing herself to take a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. Controlling her emotions had gotten easier since becoming a champion—especially since she allowed Dawn to fiddle with Mesprit's abilities on her—but Moon was still prone to the same bouts of emotions any person her age was.

She'd have felt better if she had someone to talk to. She'd have felt better if Rotom was around to call her a moron. She'd have felt better if she could turn around and vent to anyone, but of course, the halls were empty.

Moon eventually made her way to her room. She leaned against the pillows on her bed, releasing a long breath she couldn't recall taking.

It was confusing; she'd probably feel far more comfortable after telling the truth, but the actual process of gathering enough courage to tell him was far more draining than the result would be worth. It would be preferable in some ways to have Dumbledore tell Lupin, but the man had already told her that she needed to be the one to do it, and not knowing when her half-brother would learn the truth would be another form of torture.

She wanted Lupin to have a good opinion of her, but she got the odd feeling that the man would immediately ignore her if he learned that they were related. It was basically what she was attempting to do, after all.

 _'Maybe it's a family thing,'_ she thought sardonically, _'keeping secrets and having low self-esteem.'_

She eventually found the strength to pull herself out of bed. She was annoyed with herself for freaking out—over a short conversation in a hallway, of all things—and decided that the best way to deal with herself was to go and have something to eat.

Moon noticed that something was off when she stepped into the Great Hall for dinner that evening. Her eyes went to the Gryffindor table, searching for her three friends and only finding two of them. Ron and Hermione were noticeably concerned, probably about whatever kept Harry from showing up to dinner. She took a step, intending to head toward the Gryffindor table and find out why Harry hadn't been around that day, only to have someone grab her by the wrist. She twisted around to lock eyes with Draco Malfoy. His sharp features were tense, as though he was angry but didn't want it to show.

"We have some things to talk about," he said, indicating the Slytherin table with his head. "And no, it can't wait."

Moon took one last look at the Gryffindor table before she allowed herself to be pulled over to the Slytherins. Draco let her take a seat first on the side facing away from the Gryffindors before sitting on her right. Crabbe and Goyle took the free seats next to them, deterring anyone from trying to listen in on them.

Draco slipped her an expensive-looking envelope with three words written in curly handwriting that only served to cause her more stress:

 _Champion Moon Blakesley_

"I was told to give you this," the blond said. "I would tell you what it is about, but I thought you would prefer to read it yourself."

Moon opened the envelope slowly, careful not to damage it, and pulled out a piece of parchment.

 _Champion Moon Blakesley, First Champion of the Alola League, Officer of Interregional Cooperation and Diplomacy, Countess of the Sevii Islands,_

 _It is a great honour on behalf of the Malfoy family to invite you to attend the annual Christmas Gala. The Gala is a time for outstanding members of the magical community to congregate and discuss the events of the upcoming year. The Gala will take place on the 24_ _th_ _of December, between the hours of 6 and 12, with cocktails and appetizers at 6, dinner at 7, and dancing and socialising at 8._

 _I would also like to personally invite you to stay at the family manor for the duration of the Christmas holidays. My son has mentioned you in a number of his letters, namely after you kept him from being mauled by a savage Hippogriff. He has written about how you two have fallen out of each other's favour recently, and has expressed regret for his behaviour. The Christmas holiday will be a perfect opportunity for the two of you to start mending your friendship._

 _Stories of your plight have managed to reach my ears, and I must express my deepest condolences. Being stranded in an unfamiliar place without any understanding of the society surrounding it must have been dreadful. Rest assured, everything you could possibly need will be provided to you at the manor._

 _If you choose to stay at the manor over Christmas, my son will travel with you on the Hogwarts Express. We will meet you at King's Cross before travelling to the manor. A guest suite has been prepared for your arrival._

 _If you choose to stay at Hogwarts for the duration of the break, we wish you well, and we will send you your parcels through the Owl Post._

 _With regards,_

 _Lucius Malfoy II_

 _'Well, someone's done their research,'_ Moon thought bitterly. _'The man even managed to get my full title right.'_

"So what's your answer?" Draco said. "Are you going or not?"

Moon knew that this invitation wasn't sent as thanks for keeping Draco from being hurt. If the Malfoys had really wanted to thank her for that, they would have done so immediately following the incident, not months later when there just so happened to be an event for her to attend as a guest.

This was, in the truest sense, a political move.

A strange, warm feeling blossomed in her chest. As much as she had been worried about people learning about her title, she couldn't have thought of a better way for it to happen. Being acknowledged, being respected, being treated as a useful human being rather than just a child was something she had been missing for months. That feeling of complete uselessness had been accumulating since August, and had slowly been wearing her down until she felt uncertain about stuff that, months ago, she would have done in a heartbeat.

She would get to be a champion again, even if it was only for the holidays.

Moon looked at Draco with a smile—a smile she hadn't worn in a long time—and nodded.

"When do we leave?"

 **Remember: reviews are an important part of a fanfiction writer's diet.**

 **All joking aside, I'd love to hear some feedback from you guys. Feel free to tell me what you think of this chapter, this story, or this version of Moon that I'm writing.**

 **I had so much trouble uploading this chapter! I kept getting error messages whenever I tried to upload the word document. I got fed up and used the copy-paste function instead, and that worked for some reason? Anyone else having the same problem, or is it just me?**


	21. Malfoy Manor

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Twenty One: Malfoy Manor**

Moon was well aware of the fact that everything that happened within the first twenty-four hours after accepting her invitation was done to impress her.

Part of her was very smug about the special treatment.

Part of her was screaming loudly about how annoying it was.

Being treated as a member of a high-class society was something she had hated when she started out as champion. There were many rules, codes, agreements and so on about how one was supposed to behave and dress and move and talk, and most of it was completely arbitrary. It was just stuff that was done in an attempt to separate the upper class from everyone else.

The parties and charity balls and galas started to grow on her when she viewed it as a game of seeing how well she could convince everyone of her status. She didn't fight against the established rules like May did, or blend in seamlessly like Dawn and Rosa, but slipped into a happy medium where everyone found her polite and charming. This was advantageous, as she had been able to glean more information from the guests than the other champions, and she had been far more willing to use it.

It was actually a tip she received from a small charity auction that set everything in motion. One guest had mentioned seeing a shipment arrive at the old Galactic hideout in Eterna that had the Aether logo stamped on the side. Moon couldn't resist checking it out.

' _And now I'm stuck here,'_ she mused, leaning back in the cozy chair that stood in front of the fireplace in the guest suite.

She had spent the night packing, checking and double checking her belongings to see if she was missing anything. The morning consisted of her getting out of bed early and finding Draco at the early breakfast in the Great Hall. He had told her that everything was taken care of, that his parents knew she was attending, and that a message had been sent to Dumbledore to tell him that she was leaving.

Moon had taken a chance to glance at the table where Dumbledore would have been sitting if it was a regular meal. If the man wasn't already aware of her leaving, he was in for a surprise.

The next couple of hours were spent travelling on the carriages, and after that the Hogwarts Express. Moon's luggage was carried by Crabbe and Goyle, while Draco talked about what his family manor looked like.

"The gardens are still maintained during the winter," he said as they were entering an empty compartment. "The plants need to be checked, along with the fountains, to make sure that everything is working in the summer."

The conversation wasn't one she was overly interested in, but she made sure to take note of what the blond boy was saying. Even the smallest detail about his house could prove to be beneficial in the future. So she listened to everything, from the way he talked about the family peacocks to how he glossed over any details of the basement.

She escaped the endless conversation about two-thirds of the train ride in, when she claimed she that they should take the opportunity to change out of their school uniforms. Moon left to change in the bathroom. She crossed paths with other girls who had the same idea—most noticeably Pansy Parkinson, who was obviously livid underneath her attempt at a demure expression.

Moon changed out of her robes and into a modest outfit consisting of a tulle, tea length black skirt, a white blouse, white stockings and comfortable ankle-high boots. She pulled on her favourite jacket—a windbreaker with an inner lining of Beartic fur, one that Calem got her for Christmas—before checking to see if her hair was neat before leaving the bathroom.

She headed back towards the compartment—dodging Parkinson's attempt to bump into her—and took a seat near the window. Draco continued the conversation until the train pulled into the station.

It didn't take long for Moon to spot the Malfoy patriarch and his wife. If the superior attitude and aura didn't separate them from the crowd, the ghostly pale blond hair did. She let Draco lead her over to his parents.

"Mother, Father," Draco said, "this is the girl I wrote to you about, Moon Blakesley. Moon, these are my parents."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Moon said.

"Believe me, Champion Blakesley," Lucius replied, "the pleasure is all ours."

There were no handshakes, nor did anyone offer to carry her luggage, and Moon could have sworn she saw a glint of weariness in Lucius Malfoy's eyes. She knew that they knew about her blood status, and that they weren't going to treat her as lavishly as they would have if she were born a pure-blood, or even if she had two magical parents. Of course, Moon had done her research on a handful of prominent figures and families, and that included the Malfoys. While they were still blood supremacists, they weren't the type of people to disregard a person completely based on status alone. Especially if said person was powerful, intelligent, or influential.

She'd be fine.

The trip through Muggle London was a comfortable ride in a ministry-issued vehicle (one with evident magical enhancements to expand the interior) out of the city. Moon watched the streets they passed with faked boredom, trying to absorb the image of the city. It had been months since she was in a city.

There was minimal conversation on the two hour trip. Aside from talking about schoolwork and the few remarks about current events, the four didn't say much. Moon wondered if that was so when they did eventually start talking about other things, the Malfoys would be able to better control the surroundings. It was the same technique that the champions used when discussing anything related to the leagues; bringing the speakers to a regally decorated conference room with all the champions on a raised platform. Intimidation at its finest. The half-silence continued as the car made its way into Wiltshire and eventually onto the manor's driveway.

Malfoy Manor was a marvel. Even if an observer disregarded the gardens entirely due to it being winter, they wouldn't be able to ignore the grandeur of the actual building. The building towered over the hedges and surrounding trees. The windows were covered in frost, making them glisten like diamonds. Light poured out from said windows, standing out from the backdrop of the night sky.

The car rolled to a stop near the front door. The driver came around and opened the door. Lucius stepped out of the vehicle first before offering a hand to his wife to help her. After Narcissa stepped out, Draco followed. The blond boy offered his own hand to Moon, who accepted the gesture. As the four approached the manor, the door swung open, even though there was no one to open it.

The manor's interior was rather dimly lit, but still elegant overall. The Slytherin influence was apparent, with the lush greens and smoky greys. Chandeliers were spaced out, burning with candles that appeared to be brand new. Moon tried not to stare at the portraits who turned their noses up as she passed by.

They entered the dining room, a large and spacious place with deep green curtains covering the many windows. The table had been recently polished and set, but there was no food. It wasn't until they had all sat down that Lucius struck the floor with his cane, and within a second dinner had materialized onto the plates.

Moon waited for her hosts to begin their meals before she started eating. The food was a lot fancier than the stuff at Hogwarts. That didn't mean she liked it better; she'd take chicken wings and dollar fries over halibut in a heartbeat.

"Champion Blakesley," Narcissa said as she was cutting her fish, "how has life at Hogwarts been, compared to what you're used to?"

"Unique, I suppose," Moon said. "I certainly am glad that I'm able to learn about magic, of course. But I am looking forward to returning to Alola."

"From the stories I've heard, you're rather high up in Alola's government," Lucius said.

Moon nodded. "Being champion is about the highest position one can achieve with the league system."

"And what exactly is the league system?"

' _So he knows I'm important, but isn't sure how our government works.'_

"The league system of government is based on the ideal that the perfect leader is represented in the strongest pokémon trainer. Someone who has devoted their time and energy to forming strategies, raising pokémon, and travelling across the region is said to have exemplary leadership skills. This ideology has brought prosperity to the regions that adopt it.

"In the beginning, there was no formal method of establishing who the most powerful trainer was. This led to multiple factions, each led by a powerful trainer, fighting each other. Leaders rose and fell within a matter of months. It was said that everything was chaos, and that a full-scale war could have broken out had it not been stopped.

"It was a faction of merely five that managed to end the fighting in the Kanto region. Their leader challenged the leaders of the eight remaining groups to a battle, and managed to win every single time. These five people, in complete control of the Kanto region, declared that whoever managed to beat the eight faction leaders could challenge the four members, and whoever managed to beat them could challenge the leader. If the leader was beaten, he would step down. He remained as leader of the Kanto region for nearly thirty years. In the meantime, the surrounding regions adopted the same method of leadership.

"Over time, the eight faction leaders became the eight gym leaders, the four winning members became the Elite Four, and the leader became known as the champion."

"How interesting," Lucius said, although Moon could tell he wasn't focused on the history of the system. "Tell me; how does someone as young as you become champion?"

"Through hard work and a bit of luck," she answered. She could see the man's jaw clench, even as he wore a smile. "Of course, I can imagine that seeing someone who is the same age as your son in a position equivalent to Minister for Magic is a tad strange."

"Quite," Narcissa replied. "Why, exactly, is someone as young as yourself allowed to be in such a high profile position? No offense, of course."

"Another war, something far more recent—although that is relative," Moon said. "Every man and woman who had the ability to fight, had to fight. That left everyone under the age of eighteen to take care of themselves and their remaining family. Anyone who was over ten was considered to be old enough to do the work needed to run a shop, provide emergency services, and teach the younger children what they learnt in school. By the time the war finished, the kids who had been running the towns had become war veterans themselves. So everything changed—schools became more efficient to teach the basic material needed in the span of five years, higher education started to specialise in career paths, and the league eventually allowed anyone over the age of eleven to participate. It became more of a 'rite of passage' over time, rather than a way to become a political leader."

"And so everyone does this?" Draco asked.

"Not everyone, and not all at the same time. Practically everyone owns a pokémon, yes, but they don't necessarily challenge the gyms. There might be a handful of trainers each year that make it to the Elite Four. Most of them, naturally, are not eleven. Most aren't even under twenty. I was just incredibly lucky to have been in the right place at the right time so that I could become strong enough to become champion."

Draco didn't seem satisfied with that answer, but he kept his mouth shut after receiving a particularly harsh glare from his father.

"Is there any real benefit to travelling around with magical creatures?" Lucius asked after a moment. "Apart from being a way into the government, of course."

"There's a few… benefits, as you put it, to travelling with pokémon," Moon said. "Increased life span was one of the first advantages to be recorded, along with increased strength and speed. Depending on the type of pokémon one trains, one can undergo minute physical changes like different hair colouration to massive differences, such as being able to withstand previously unbearable temperatures."

"And, I assume, the more powerful the creature the greater the change?"

"That's what has been observed in the past, yes."

The man seemed pleased by that answer. He didn't press further on how being surrounded by pokémon changed a person. Moon was glad to let the topic go there, before she felt urged to talk about the other advantages to training pokémon. She ran her tongue over her teeth, which had become sharper when she started training Lycanroc and Kommo-o, still Rockruff and Jangmo-o back then. They felt duller than she remembered.

She sighed. It must've been her imagining things.

Dinner passed without much more discussion, and a house elf named Finny was summoned to lead Moon to the guest suite. The tiny elf led the way through the manor's corridors with his head ducked. He stopped suddenly and pulled open a door.

"Room for the young miss," the elf squeaked, his voice sounding noticeably younger than Pippi's. Moon nodded, giving Finny a small smile before she disappeared into the guest suite.

It didn't take her long to sink into the chair in front of the crackling fireplace and start musing. She knew that it would have been faster to Floo directly to the manor, but they'd come by ministry-approved car. She knew that it would have been easier to set up a small room for her, but she had been put in the guest suite. She knew that the Malfoys weren't truly interested in her lifestyle, but they had been having a pleasant conversation over dinner about that very thing.

They had been trying to impress her and pry information out of her at the same time.

In the end, it technically had worked. Even though she had known to a certain degree what the Malfoys were trying to do, she played along with it and had given them what they wanted.

But only that, and little else.

Moon stood up and stretched her arms. She walked over to where her bags had been placed and retrieved her pokémon. The six pokéballs rested in her palm, shrunken and asleep. She'd have to wait to see them again. Hopefully not the full two weeks.

She smiled. Two weeks without her pokémon was nothing compared to a month. She'd make it through the holiday without a problem.

 **Filler chapter is filler *throws confetti* although there is** **a metric ton** **some world building. Training pokémon for a long enough period of time results in the trainers gaining new abilities and tendencies. How else could someone survive being hit by a Thunderbolt or a Flamethrower?**

 **I went on a writing binge over the past week. I'm very pleased to say that I've finished writing the rest of the story; all that's left is editing. Twenty one chapters down, twelve chapters and an epilogue to go *throws more confetti***

 **If anyone is curious as to why Moon is a countess, here's a bit of homework for you: what's the first thing to pop up when you Google Sealand?**


	22. Change of Heart and Mind

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Twenty Two: Change of Heart and Mind**

The gardens of Malfoy Manor were beautiful in the wintertime, and Moon couldn't begin to imagine what they must look like in summer.

The young champion had been given 'permission' to wander around the estate (although it was worded rather differently), as long as she didn't try to cross the furthest hedges marking the end of the property. Seeing as the estate was larger than some of the islands she had seen while travelling over Hoenn with May, this didn't bother her too much.

It must have snowed overnight, as there was an inch-thick blanket of the stuff covering the old snow and filling in the holes that had been treaded through the previous layer. Her boots left deep imprints as she walked around the gardens. The fountains and statues must have been enchanted to repel snow, as there was none to be found on top of the ornaments.

Moon stopped in front of a regal fountain and stared. A dragon statue—a Hebridean Black, if she remembered correctly—stood proudly on the pedestal with its mouth open in a roar. She could imagine that, during the summer months, water would be pouring from its mouth into the fountain. It was like the Gyarados fountains she was used to, except the dragons wizards were used to only spewed fire.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

She looked over her shoulder to see Draco standing a few feet away. She hadn't heard him approach since she was so focused on the fountain.

"The dragons here only breathe fire, correct?" she asked, gesturing her head towards the fountain.

"What else would they do?" Draco replied. "It's not like they could shoot water or acid from their mouths."

"Not your dragons," Moon said wistfully. "I've seen dragons do so much more than simply spit fire."

"Really? Such as?"

"We have dragons that breathe ice instead of fire. Dragons that control lightning. Dragons that watch over time and space and the sky and the balance of the universe. Dragons that a person could keep as a pet if they so wished."

"Hopefully no one would keep a dragon that guarded the balance of the universe as a pet," Draco said tiredly.

"Not as a pet, no," Moon said, with images of Dawn and Giratina flickering through her mind. "There are small and docile dragons that people like to train. Not exactly common practice, but not entirely rare."

Draco nodded tightly. "Sounds… interesting."

Moon frowned and tilted her head. Draco had been willing to talk to her on the train ride, and even during dinner, but it had only been to give her information about the manor and to question her on what happened in her world. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume that the Slytherin was only talking to her on his parents' orders.

"You're still mad at me," she stated.

"You said I wasn't worth respecting," he replied, irritation seeping into his voice.

"I said you hadn't done anything worth respecting," she said. "There's a difference."

"And that would be?"

She smirked. "I suppose by now you've figured I'm not a pure-blood supremacist. I don't think that Muggle-borns are lower than dirt, and that opinion is gradually growing more popular. Less and less half-bloods are turning to the idea of blood purity."

"The opinions of blood-traitors aren't worth their weight in garbage," he said. "You haven't been around long enough to know why."

"'Magic, like every other trait, can only be passed down from parent to child. For a magical child to be born to two Muggles parents means that their ability comes from a mutation. It then follows that the magical ability of Muggle-borns is inferior to that of pure-bloods, and possibly toxic to a family's bloodline,' Ivor Yaxley, The Essence of Magic, 1921," Moon recited.

"… Okay, maybe you do know a thing or two."

"What Yaxley neglected to mention, or was ignorant of, was that traits are not limited to those that the parents of a child display. Two parents with brown eyes can have a blue-eyed child if they both carry the gene. Many, many new books on the subject agree that Muggle-borns are the descendants of squibs. Squibs, on the other hand, are either the result of marrying Muggles—an old idea that has been losing credibility—or a result of too many relatives marrying and having children."

"So what? Do you honestly believe that a person descended from several generations of wizards is less capable than some kid who has no notable magical heritage?"

"Are you saying that Goyle is a shining example of wizards everywhere and is far more skilled than Granger will ever be?"

Draco's mouth fell open like a Magikarp's. He regained his composure a second later, although he had an affronted look.

"Those are just two examples!"

"True enough. I'm sure that, throughout history, there have been plenty of Muggle-borns who have been terrible witches and wizards. Just like there have been awful pure-bloods. And there are Muggle-borns who excel at magic, and extraordinarily talented pure-bloods."

"What's your point here?"

"That, without any solid proof as to why being a pure-blood is inherently better than being a half-blood or a Muggle-born, I'm forced to judge people on their actions and abilities alone."

Draco stood still for a moment, as though he was surprised by her answer. A smirk crossed his face.

"Doesn't always work that way," he said smartly. "Look at you, for instance; an exchange student with good grades and no loyalty to a house. Turns out you're basically the Minister of your own country in an alternate universe."

"Can I not be both?" Moon said. "You're one of the best students in our year and a competent Quidditch player, and you're also the heir to an enormous fortune. Both are correct, and they do not negate each other."

"But it's not like you can truly judge a person based on partial information."

"Except in the case of blood status?"

His face turned considerably redder, although that might have partially been due to the cold weather.

"My point is that all people deserve some basic level of respect, and anything above that has to be earned," Moon continued. "When judging a person, do so using the most relevant information possible. And yes, I'll admit, sometimes that does include blood status or upbringing. Just don't let that be the only thing you use to judge how worthy a person is."

A flicker of a smile crossed the Slytherin's face. "I was wrong earlier."

"About what?"

"You're not a Gryffindor. You're a Ravenclaw."

That got a reaction from Moon. The girl sputtered, her own face heating up as she failed to articulate anything.

"Don't even deny it," Draco said with a grin. "You're intelligent, sure, and you're willing to be cunning when you need to be, but you value hard evidence and logic over everything else."

"Since when are you the Sorting Hat?"

The blond teenager laughed, and Moon couldn't help it anymore. She scooped up a handful of snow and threw it at the Slytherin. It hit him directly in the chest, startling him. He looked up at her, completely confused.

"Don't tell me you've never had a snowball fight before," Moon said. Draco shook his head.

It seemed like a thing that everyone would have experienced by the time they were thirteen, but it wasn't hard to imagine that Draco—or any of the high-society pure-blood children for that matter—never got into a snowball fight. It was a bit of childish fun that children like Draco probably never got the luxury of enjoying.

"Pick up some snow and throw it at my head."

"What?" Draco said.

"Pick up some snow and throw it at my head," Moon repeated. Draco leaned over and grabbed just enough snow to cover his palm, crushed it into a cylinder shape, and tossed it at her head. It was off-centre, grazing her ear rather than hitting her face.

"Not bad," she remarked. "Don't throw it so lightly, though. You're not going to hurt me with a handful of snow no matter how hard you throw it, so don't hold back."

"Why… what's the point of this?" he asked warily.

"To have fun," Moon said.

"Isn't… isn't a snowball fight a bit childish?"

Her eye twitched involuntarily. "It's supposed to be fun. How is that childish?"

"It's something that kids do."

"According to your British standards, we are kids."

"Shouldn't we be more mature than that?" he said. "Surely you'd understand why we can't act like children. No one would take us seriously."

"Draco, that is literally the worst excuse I've heard for anything."

The blond teenager took a step back, looking completely confused. "What?"

"Adults who would look down on a kid for having fun would look down on a kid regardless of how mature they were. If you act like you don't care about what other people think, if you show that you're above it, people are forced to take you seriously. And having fun generally pays off more than being 'mature' all the time."

Confusion flitted across Draco's face. Moon knew that it was a weird idea—one that wasn't fully recognized in her own world, much less Britain—and she hadn't expected Draco to believe it straight away. She turned her attention back to the fountain.

Only to have a snowball nail her in her ear.

She stumbled for a brief moment, before scooping up a handful of snow and throwing it back. It hit Draco in the stomach, eliciting a laugh from him. For a moment, she could see his grey eyes dart up to the windows of the mansion, as though he was looking to see if his parents were watching. Another ball of snow being thrown at her confirmed that they were not.

There weren't many days between Moon's arrival and the ball. She managed to talk with Draco the most out of the three Malfoys outside of meals. Their conversations never strayed back into the idea of blood purity. Although Moon knew that she hadn't fully changed the young Malfoy's mind, she had convinced him enough to not tell his parents.

Lucius and Narcissa weren't overly keen on seeking her out during the day, which Moon found odd. They certainly didn't fear prying into her life during meals. Lucius was interested in the government, specifically the other champions and how they did their jobs, while Narcissa tried to learn more about the events and parties Moon had attended as a champion. But however much they sought out the information when they were gathered together, they never bothered to talk to her anywhere else. They hadn't even bothered to ask the house elves to tail her. Or they had, and the house elves were just fantastic at hiding.

Draco, on the other hand, only talked to her when they were away from his parents. Aside from a few comments, he mostly stuck to talking with her when his parents weren't there to silence him with a look. It was nice, in a way, to have another person to talk to that wasn't trying to get her to reveal every minute detail about her life. Even if there was a bit of tension regarding their confrontation at Hogwarts, they had been able to move away from it for the time being.

He was also proving to be a useful source of information to Moon.

"What's the Christmas Gala like?" she asked, not looking away from the book she was perusing. The two were lounging in the manor's library, pretending to be interested in their homework but not paying attention.

"Like every other party or event, just at Christmas," he replied as he flipped a page in his own book. "The adults talk about their lives, the kids are expected to be polite and charming, there's music, dancing, and at least one scandal."

"Do you have fun?"

"Not… not overly. These events are tailored for the adults. I'm just expected to be there."

"So your job is to stand there and look pretty?"

He gave a short laugh. "Essentially. I doubt that's what you'll be doing, though."

"Excuse you, I intend to look very pretty tomorrow night."

"I imagine, as my mother intends to be in charge of your outfit," he said with note of amusement. "But you're a special guest. My father heard about you through some Ministry gossip. Those other champions had apparently been very forthcoming when it came to giving out information. I wouldn't be surprised if more than half of the pure-blood families knew who you were by now."

Moon frowned. "So, what? They're going to seek me out for conversation?"

"They'll want to see how well-mannered you are. Some families still despise half-bloods on principle, but most are willing to overlook that if they think you are suitable for an alliance."

"Like I'm supposed to be their gateway into my world's political sphere?"

"More or less," Draco answered, his voice dropping off near the end. Moon glanced at the Slytherin to see that the tips of his ears had gone red, along with his cheeks.

"What's the issue?" she asked. Draco's face only became redder.

"There's no issue."

"Then why are you so flustered?"

" _Look_ ," he said, shutting his book a bit too hard, "there's going to be people trying to hound you during the party. Some want to gain a foothold in your government. Some want to see if they can expand their businesses. Some want to acquire pokémon of their own. For any of them to know if these things are possible, they'll have to talk to you first, because as talkative as your colleagues are, they're still focused on building a bridge between our worlds. If everyone was able to question them directly, there'd be a line-up reaching the Ministry's lobby, and the people working with them wouldn't be too pleased with such a delay."

"So this invitation was just so people could increase their own wealth. Got it."

Draco huffed. "That's not true. Not entirely."

"Then what else was it for?"

His head tilted back until he was staring at the ceiling. "Does it really matter if you know or not?"

"Well, considering that it's my life, yes."

The blond boy sighed. "Some people— _some_ —are interested in finding out your… lineage."

"Oh."

 _Oh._

"Guess that's everything to some people," Moon said irritably. "Not skill, or money, or connections, just who your parents are."

"Why is it so big of a deal for you?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely curious. "You're fine with claiming you're a half-blood, which isn't too suspicious. But Blakesley isn't a wizard family name, so some people are curious as to what family you're related to."

"If the circumstances were different, I'd tell you directly," she admitted. "I go by my mother's name since my parents divorced. My father is the wizard."

"So you'd be able to lay a claim to your family's vault?"

"That's one of the first things the goblins at Gringotts told me. I didn't bother to retrieve any money, though, I just sold some stuff. I doubt there'd have been much in there anyway."

"Why is that?"

"I still have relatives here. Or at least, a relative."

He straightened up in his chair. "You have a family member here?"

"Yeah, although they're not aware of anything. I don't like the idea of drawing attention from them."

"What, are they being hunted down by Aurors?"

She gave the Slytherin an incredulous look. "That's your first idea?"

"Well, unless you're related to Sirius Black or something equally ridiculous, I can't imagine why you'd want to keep it a secret."

"There could be plenty of reasons I don't want my relative to know that we're related, and I assure you that that isn't one of them."

Draco laughed, but didn't press any further. It wasn't until later that night, after she had curled up near the fireplace, that she thought of what he had said.

If there had been a way to travel between the two worlds, if there hadn't been a huge war to devastate Britain, what would her life have been like? Would she have learned about magic sooner? Would her father have introduced her to her brother? Would her brother have introduced her to his friends, to Harry? Would she have gone to Hogwarts when she was eleven, getting sorted like everyone else?

Or would everything have been the same in the end?

Her father was not one to discuss things that he didn't want to talk about. The fact that he never said one word to Moon about his previous life and family was proof of that. She could have very well been ignorant of magic for her entire life had she not gone after those moronic grunts. If the war hadn't happened, everyone's lives would have been better, but she would have been unaware of it.

As much as Moon wanted to go home, she was glad she had the chance to learn about magic. It had been one of the greatest things in her short life, and she wouldn't want to change it even if she could.

 **Seems like a good place to leave it.**


	23. Christmas Gala, Part One

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Twenty Three: Christmas Gala, Part One**

Dress robes weren't that much different from high-end formalwear, as Moon found out when Narcissa Malfoy presented what she'd be wearing for the Christmas Gala.

"I assumed that you wouldn't have anything suitable to wear, so I took it upon myself to find something," the blonde woman said. "I hope it is to your liking."

Moon couldn't find anything to say in response. The dress was gorgeous. It wasn't too dramatic or too simple. The flowy blue and white fabric criss-crossed at the top, separating into straps, and was bound at the waist. The fabric streamed down to the floor, with only the slightest hints of a skirt, and with minimal beading.

She loved it.

"Thank Merlin it fits," Narcissa said after Moon changed into the dress. "It's an older dress, but I thought it would be about your size. It… belonged to one of my sisters."

There was a note of disdain in the older woman's voice. Moon knew from her research into the old pure-blood families that one of Narcissa's older sisters had married a Muggle-born, while the other had gone to prison. She wasn't sure whose dress she was wearing.

Narcissa sighed, and then smiled. "Well, we still have some work to do. I'd like to get started on your hair right away, and then your makeup and jewellery."

Sitting at the vanity in her room with Narcissa was surreal in a way. Her mother hadn't done her hair since she was a little girl. When Moon learned how to hold a brush, tie a ponytail, and form a braid, her mother stopped doing her hair. There hadn't been formal occasions to attend when she was young, and Moon had taught herself to do fancier hairstyles as she grew older, so there was no need to have someone do it for her.

It was a nice change, she had to admit.

Narcissa used an array of hair-care potions to make Moon's hair soft and silky. It reached halfway down her shoulder blades after going untrimmed for months. Narcissa meticulously wove her hair into several braids, carefully wrapping them around her head to form a neat crown.

"You know, I always wished I had a daughter," the blonde woman confessed. "I wouldn't exchange my son for anyone, of course, but it would still be nice to have another child in the house. Especially now that Draco is off at Hogwarts most of the time. I can't help but worry that he'll get himself hurt."

"He's a good student," Moon said, "even if he has the occasional bad idea during Care of Magical Creatures."

"Thanks again for saving him that day. I'm still not sure why he thought to insult that Hippogriff. I don't know what I would have done if he had been injured."

' _You would have raised hell and insisted that Buckbeak be executed, even though Draco provoked him,'_ Moon thought. _'You care for your son more than anything. If he had lost a chunk of hair that day, you would have taken offence.'_

"I still don't understand why you threw yourself into danger, though," Narcissa continued as she pinned another section of a braid to the crown. "Surely you knew that it was dangerous?"

"I did, but I was more worried about Draco."

"Did you think the possibility of getting injured was worth keeping my son safe?"

"I didn't really think, I just… reacted," Moon answered. She saw Narcissa nod slowly through the mirror, and she sighed. "Getting into dangerous situations is sort of common now between champions. An angry Hippogriff isn't as dangerous as some of the things I dealt with at home."

"I see," the woman whispered. "Are such things daily occurrences?"

"Not really. It's rather peaceful most of the time. Unless we go searching for danger, there isn't much to worry about nowadays."

"But there was in the past?"

"Occasionally, there'd be… organizations that popped up," Moon said carefully. She could see Narcissa stiffen. "They weren't all the same. Some were just criminal organizations with money, some were after powerful pokémon, and some had twisted ideas to take over the region."

She gave a half-hearted smile. "That's probably why all of us champions rose to power shortly after starting our journeys. There were always plenty of people to fight."

"You went up against an entire organization?"

"Two, really, but one was working for the other. I wasn't alone in fighting them, but we were outnumbered anyway. It was strange, really, that we were able to win at all.

"That's not to mention the groups that the others faced," she said, smiling a little wider. "There were some really tough people that started their own followings, but they were all beaten within a year by one champion in the making. I don't know who the worst or the most powerful was, though. Point of contention at meetings."

Narcissa twisted the last braid and pinned it in place. "I still find it difficult to imagine someone your age acting like the Minister, or even an Auror."

"I still find it difficult to believe that people don't start formal schooling until they're eleven," Moon said with a laugh. "I could have been training to be a doctor or a professor at that age. I was running around the country at that age."

"I know things are different where you're from, but I can't help worrying," Narcissa said, turning Moon away from the mirror and carefully starting on the young girl's makeup. "I just keep seeing Draco in your place. I don't know if I could have let him go on a journey like your mother let you. He's only going to school, the school I went to, and yet I still worry…"

"That's part of life, I guess," Moon said. "To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't want anyone to go through what I did. It was long, exhausting, and downright terrifying at some points. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but I wouldn't want to relive it either."

The conversation lulled as Narcissa began applying more makeup on Moon. It was difficult to talk when someone was focusing on getting a perfectly straight line of lipstick or trying not to accidently poke an eye with a mascara brush. Eventually, the woman was done with her work and allowed Moon to look in the mirror as she went to retrieve some jewellery pieces. Moon slowly let her new appearance sink in.

The person in the mirror was her, and yet it she looked extremely different from how she normally looked. Moon had worn makeup in the past, but nothing close to what Narcissa had done. Her lips were a soft pink, her blue eyes stood out using light touches of eyeshadow and eyeliner, and her cheeks had become rosy. Nothing like the lip gloss and mascara she wore to parties previously.

Narcissa returned holding some old boxes. She met Moon's eye in the mirror and smiled.

"These are old Malfoy family heirlooms," the woman said, setting the boxes on the vanity and opening them up. "There's so many of them that it's hard to keep track of them all. I found these awhile back, and I thought they would look good on you."

Delicate silver chains with crystal flowers hung from her neck and her ears. A comb with fabric flowers was added to her hair. No finicky bracelets or rings, just simple jewellery that enhanced her appearance rather than distracted from it.

"Perfect," Narcissa said. "You will make a lovely first impression now."

The older woman left soon after, leaving behind a hand-sized purse for Moon to use. It was already four in the afternoon when her makeover was finished. Narcissa was most likely going to get ready herself (or have the family house elves assist her, because it did take the better part of two hours for Moon to look the way she did), and there wasn't much Moon could do until six. One of the house elves would escort her to the doors of the ballroom before disappearing, meaning that she would have to walk in and have her name be ticked off the list without anyone guiding her. She had never gone to a party with a date. Hau had jokingly offered on more than one occasion, and she had teased Gladion with the possibility, but she had never used her 'plus-one' invitation. That being said, she had always known that one of the other champions was there to greet her. She had even dragged Red to some of the parties on someone else's (usually Blue's) orders.

Now she was going to an event without them.

Knowing the Malfoys well enough and knowing the names of a handful of students who might show up wasn't the same as having her friends being there. She couldn't play wallflower all night with Red, or discuss legendary pokémon with May, or help Blue plan his next prank. It certainly wouldn't be a fun night with her friends.

Something clicked in the back of her mind, and she grabbed the small purse that had been left for her. She went to where her pokémon were resting in their capsules. One pokéball was selected out of the six, and slipped into the purse.

' _There's got to be someone who asks to see my pokémon,'_ Moon thought, _'and no one in their right mind would be frightened by Ninetales.'_

As the arms of the clock began to turn towards six, there was a knock at the door. Moon opened it to see Finny standing there. The elf gestured for her to follow him down the winding hallways of the manor. She walked next to Finny, letting him lead but making it look to any observers that the elf was following her. They made their way through the corridors, eventually stopping a few steps from a set of large, ornate doors.

"Finny hopes you have a nice night, miss," the elf said, vanishing shortly afterward.

Moon took a deep breath, and walked towards the doors. They swung open as she approached. Somewhere, a clock began to chime, indicating that it was six o'clock. As she entered the room, she spotted a wizard standing in front of a floating piece of parchment.

"Name?" the wizard asked in a plummy voice.

"Moon Blakesley," she replied, watching the man's eyes scroll down the sheet. His eyes suddenly lit up as they found her name.

"Here on invitation from the Malfoy family?" he said, sounding surprised. "Strange… they're not usually the ones to show off special guests."

He placed a checkmark near her name and gestured for her to move forward. Moon slowly walked down the staircase, thankful that she wasn't wearing heels that night. The room below was filled with round tables covered in green cloths. Silver candles and holly centrepieces sat on the tables, which were strangely void of plates or silverware. Instead, at each seat, there was a card, folded in such a way that it held itself up. There was a small area near the stairs that didn't have any tables where the guests were milling about. There weren't that many people there, but she did spot Draco talking to Crabbe and Goyle. They were all wearing new dress robes, ones that looked like suits, but the coat portion went down to their knees. Glancing around, Moon saw that other dress robes were much longer, and that theirs were on the short side.

Moon headed over to the Slytherin boys. She could hear Draco speaking in a low voice, but she couldn't make out the words. One of the others responded to something the blond had said.

"I'm telling you," Draco said, his voice rising in irritation, "that's not even close to… there is no way they'd do that!"

"Who wouldn't do what now?" Moon asked innocently when she got close enough. The three boys started. They hadn't seen her approaching them. Draco recovered first, narrowing his eyes at the other two.

"A ridiculous theory Crabbe had. Nothing too important," he answered. "You look lovely this evening."

"Told you I intended to be the pretty one," she said. Her eyes went over to Crabbe, whose expression was especially confused. Whatever 'theory' he was talking about hadn't been his own. Not that he would say that around Draco.

"I would recommend finding your seat as soon as possible," the blond stated. "It's going to be tough when there's more people here."

"Duly noted," she said with a nod. Moon moved away from them, noticing their conversation being picked up again when she was ten feet away.

She didn't immediately go for the head table, a rectangular one near the back of the room with six spaced out chairs. She knew that the Malfoys would be sitting there, and if she had gotten a seat there, they would have let her know. She soon found her seat at a nearby table. Her name was written in the same curly handwriting that was on her invitation.

She went around the table to see who was sitting with her.

' _Dorian Greengrass,'_ she read, _'along with his wife, Idonea, and Daphne and Astoria. And the last one…'_

She paused when she saw the last name.

 _Ragna Fawley_

Moon knew subconsciously that Aidan had relatives, but she had never expected to meet one. Especially not in a place where the happy, upbeat Healer would most certainly never tread. It was far too formal for him.

The Fawleys were members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but then again, so were the Weasleys. They weren't outspoken supremacists or the pinnacle of wealth. They weren't much of anything, really. They were just there, always in the background but not to the point of being forgotten or being shunned.

The young champion walked away from the table for the time being. There was no point in staying in one place when she could be doing something far more important.

Like trying to find something that wasn't champagne to drink.

More people filtered in through the doors as the hour passed. Moon watched them carefully, noting when someone important wandered through the doors. The Minister and his family were there, along with a woman dressed in medicine-pink dress robes. Some other members of the Ministry were there, although Moon couldn't name them off the top of her head. The head Healer at St Mungo's also made an appearance. After that came the families that were like the Malfoys, independently wealthy and influential. There were, unsurprisingly, no Aurors.

People picked food off of the trays that were being passed around by the hired staff. Adults chattered, and for the most part, so did the children. Moon stayed only as close to the crowd as strictly necessary. Draco was wandering between clusters of adults and schoolmates to talk. Strangely enough, he seemed to be keeping as far away from Moon as possible. It confused her, and if she was being perfectly honest with herself, upset her.

Seven came all too soon, and the young champion headed back to her table. She wasn't the first there. A woman with silver curls pinned to her head and a green dress robe sat across from her. The woman's eyes—a familiar warm brown—lit up when Moon took her seat.

"So you're the girl that Aidan is always writing about," the old woman said in a light voice.

Moon gave a small smile. "If he's writing about a transfer student he's working with on a project, then yes I am."

"Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. Call me Ragna."

"Then please, call me Moon," the young champion said. She spotted Daphne and her family, and gave a small wave.

Dorian Greengrass was a stocky man, with thick black hair and a well-maintained beard. He gave off a sense of confidence that did not match that of the Malfoys. Idonea was an elegant woman with silver-blue eyes, wearing her curly brown hair in a neat twist. Their two daughters took after Idonea more, although Astoria's hair was more like her father's.

"Champion Blakesley, I presume?" Dorian said pleasantly. "The young witch who has half of the Unspeakables talking at last?"

"I haven't heard about that part, but yes," Moon replied.

"You've caused a bit of a stir in the Ministry," Idonea remarked as she took her seat. "Stuff about bridging the gap between two dimensions… and all that chatter from those friends of yours. Far too complicated for the Unspeakables to keep to themselves. They've been given permission to break their vow of silence to pull in favours. Of course, that's led to all of those rumours. Most of it is far beyond anything I've ever imagined. Those mythical creatures you work with sound downright frightful."

" _Mum, please!_ " Moon heard one of the girls whisper hurriedly. Daphne was irate, but her demeanour was too cold to have been responsible for the small outburst. Astoria, on the other hand, had turned bright red.

"They're not that dangerous if you raise them right, Mrs. Greengrass," Moon said. "I'm not sure who led you to that conclusion."

"Some loud young woman. Named after a tree of some sort."

 _Of course it was May Maple._

When everyone was seated, plates appeared on the table out of thin air. Seconds later, the first course—a salad containing pecans and cranberries—was sitting on the plates. The glasses came next, filling up with wine for the adults and a red juice for the underage guests. Moon took a hesitant sip. It was a punch of some sort, although she couldn't recognize the flavour.

Idonea began picking away at her salad, pushing the cranberries to the edge of the plate. "You're fighting dragons, from what I hear. I can't imagine how that is not dangerous."

"We have a different definition for what counts as a dragon," Moon said. "Some of the dragons we have don't even look like dragons. One is actually just a bird with fluffy wings. Not exactly something dangerous."

"Why would you label a bird as a dragon?" Daphne asked, mildly more receptive towards Moon than she was at the start.

"It's a type, or just a way to categorize its strengths and weaknesses," Moon answered before taking a bite of her salad.

"So these dragons of yours aren't anything like ours," Idonea said.

"Some of them are pretty close in appearance, but certainly not temper."

Of course, the Hydreigon was known for its poor temperament, and some of the legendary dragons had the occasional tantrum when things didn't go their way, but Moon didn't want to frighten the woman. That was May's job.

Ragna smiled at the young champion from across the table. "Now, I certainly haven't heard anything about dragons," she said cheerfully, "but I have heard from my grandson about that unique creature of yours. Nihilego, wasn't it?"

"That would be the one," Moon replied. Confusion fell over the faces of the Greengrass family. The champion was preparing another explanation when Ragna started speaking.

"Apparently a Nihilego's venom is going to be the main ingredient in a new healing draught," the woman said excitedly. "If my grandson—and young Moon here, of course—succeed, well, it would mean the end of lycanthropy."

There was a stunned silence at the table. The sounds of glasses clinking and people talking continued around them, but it was like that didn't matter to the six of them.

It was Astoria who eventually broke the silence with her whispered, "What?"

"A cure for lycanthropy," Ragna repeated. "Finally, a way to get rid of werewolves once and for all."

Moon hid a grimace. "The venom itself strips away lycanthropy, but as the… original test subject is unavailable for observation, it's too dangerous to release the venom itself as a cure, so Fawley's—Aidan has been looking for ways to make it less volatile."

"From what Aidan has said, it only makes people tired for a week or so," Ragna said. "I don't see why you don't just round up every werewolf and do what you did to that Greyback."

"That would take too long," Moon said. "Some are in hiding, and I doubt anyone would react kindly to having something forced on them."

"Should it really be left to them to take it or not?" Daphne said. "Even if, theoretically, most of them would willingly be cured, having even one person decide not to be cured runs the risk of having more people being infected."

"If we want werewolves to take the cure willingly, or resist less, it's in our best interest to have the least amount of side effects as possible."

"But should the cure be enforced?" Daphne questioned. "Should it be mandatory, or should it be voluntary?"

"Should this be a conversation held over dinner?" Moon retorted.

"Is there a better place for conversation?" Ragna said lightly.

"It should be mandatory, getting cured," Idonea said. "There's no excuse for not wanting to get rid of lycanthropy."

"But what would it mean if it were mandatory?" Dorian asked his wife. "Werewolves being rounded up in droves, taken to the Ministry against their will and forced to drink a hazardous potion?"

"The sooner lycanthropy ceases to exist, the better," Ragna said, her brown eyes hard and cold like rocks. "We can finally stop worrying about our children and grandchildren being snatched away from us. I know some people are sympathetic nowadays—I have no idea why Aidan is—but you can't argue that every day that passes without a cure isn't a day without fear, without freedom."

The old woman brought a hand to her chest. "My grandson was killed eighteen years ago by a werewolf. I wait for the day that no one else has to live with that curse."


	24. Christmas Gala, Part Two

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Chapter Twenty Four: Christmas Gala, Part Two**

The rest of the meal couldn't get rid of the cold sensation that had settled in Moon's stomach. Engaging in pleasant conversation was a function she couldn't, or rather wouldn't, turn off when she was surrounded by aristocrats. Dinner and dessert passed by in a semi-blurred state. She knew she had spoken about her pokémon again, and mentioned Alola at some point, but the details were lost.

Fawley, the cheerful Healer who wanted nothing more than the ability to help find a safe cure for lycanthropy, had lost a close relative to a werewolf attack when he was a child.

Moon didn't know what to think.

It was easy believing that werewolves meant no harm when she was around people like Lupin, or those few in the test group. When the worst of the lot had only attempted to attack her in broad daylight to no avail. When she was around Aidan, who constantly talked about how they were helping people with their work.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

Draco, the second time that week, appeared near her when she was deep in thought.

"Work-related stuff," Moon said, before nodding towards the crowd. "Shouldn't you be dancing?"

"I only need to dance with a few people before I can decide how to spend the rest of my evening, although I'm expected to stay here," he answered. "What about you? Don't care for waltzing?"

"Not really," she confessed. "I know how to waltz. There were mandatory classes that saved me a lot of embarrassment later on, but… I don't know. It's not my idea of fun."

"Is dancing really ever fun?" the blond asked rhetorically.

Dancing could be fun in the right place and at the right time. Her championship celebration was something she'd never forget. The food, the bonfire, the speeches, the erratic dancing, and of course, running off with Lillie to the temple where she caught Tapu Koko. That was how a party was supposed to be.

"In that case, I won't ask you for a dance," he said with a smile. "It's about time I took a break anyway."

Moon laughed. "Let me guess, you're hiding from Pansy."

His smile dropped. "How did you know?"

"She really likes you. She practically fawns over you at school. If I didn't know better I would say the two of you were dating."

The edges of a frown crept onto Draco's face, but they vanished as soon as they appeared. "It's not like that. We're just friends… for now at least."

The last bit was mumbled, so it took Moon a second to understand it. "For now?"

"I mean, we're a little young to be dating, aren't we?"

"That's a matter of perspective, but most people would agree with you in this case."

"And Pansy… she's… sweet, I suppose, when she wants to be, and I have to admit the attention is nice, but spending the rest of my life with her…"

"Who said anything about the rest of your life?" Moon asked. "Date her for a few weeks if you want, and if you don't like her, drop her."

"It's not that simple," he said with a grimace.

"Then explain," she countered. Draco's face began to turn red.

"There's… this…"

"Draco?"

The two had been so focused on talking that they didn't notice Pansy approach.

"I've been looking for you," the Slytherin girl said sweetly. "Your parents are talking with the Notts over near the staircase. They've been wondering where you are."

The relief was evident on Draco's face, and yet he almost seemed sorry when he said goodbye. He went over to the staircase to talk with his parents and the Nott family. Pansy's eyes followed him until he stopped, and then she turned to Moon, her previous smile being replaced with a cold imitation.

"Should we get something to drink?" Pansy asked. "I'm simply parched."

' _The correct word for you is thirsty, although I have to applaud your newfound success in using a thesaurus.'_

"Of course," Moon answered.

The two of them walked along the edge of the wall to avoid any potential collisions with the dancers. The refreshment table was on the opposite end of the room from the staircase. Waterfalls of drinks stood next to mountains of cut fruit, cheeses, breads, and pastries. Moon had been deliberately avoiding the table because everything looked too delicious.

"So, Moon," Pansy drawled, "you're the Malfoys' guest tonight?"

"They invited me to stay over the Christmas break, and to attend the gala tonight."

Pansy hummed. Her dark eyes wandered over Moon's dress. "Is that all you had to wear tonight?"

"Well, yes," Moon admitted. "Mrs. Malfoy picked it out for me. I couldn't say no to such a kind gesture."

Parkinson's eye twitched. "I haven't seen you out dancing yet. Afraid you will trip over your heels?"

"I'm not wearing heels. Not everyone feels the need to show off their new footwear to anyone passing by."

"I was dancing with Draco earlier," Pansy said, ignoring Moon's comment. "He's excellent at waltzing."

"That sounds nice," Moon said, eyes darting over to the staircase. "Unfortunately for me, I'm not much of a dancer."

"We can't all be naturally talented," Pansy replied. "Classes can only do so much in certain areas."

"There's always one-on-one tutoring, although I'm sure you have plenty of experience with that. How is your Transfiguration mark nowadays?"

"Better than your Ancient Runes mark, I'm sure."

"Just above nonexistent, then. Good to hear it has improved."

"I've seen you talking to Professor Babbling," Pansy said, sounding rather confused.

"That's on my own time. I find the subject interesting, but I didn't have time for it."

"Can't juggle so many subjects at once?"

"I'd need to be able to time-travel to keep up with the workload," Moon pointed out. "Until I work out a way to do that, I'll need to stick with my current classes."

"But you're not going to be around forever," Pansy said, a smug glint in her eye. "You're trying to get back to that dimension of yours."

"We're trying to find a way to travel back and forth," Moon countered. "I'm not that easy to get rid of."

Pansy opened her mouth for a retort, but was stopped by a hand decorated with rings being placed on her shoulder.

"Darling," the woman said, "you never mentioned that you knew Champion Blakesley."

Pansy winced. "I didn't think she'd be so important to you, mother."

"Since when has someone who's caused so many rumours not been important to me?" the woman said. Pansy's mother removed her hand, reaching it out for Moon to shake. "I'm Eleanor Parkinson."

"Moon Blakesley," the young champion said. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Parkinson."

"You've caused a stir amongst the Ministry workers."

"So I'm told."

"You're all anyone's been talking about since November," the woman continued. "Something about you being a politician?"

"Close enough."

"That's rather impressive for someone your age."

"Impressive, yes, but not completely unprecedented where I'm from," Moon clarified. "I wasn't the first eleven year-old to become a champion. That honour goes to my mentor, Red."

"That's a strange name," Eleanor remarked.

"It's a nickname."

"Why would you name a person after a colour?"

"We have our reasons," Moon said. "If you ever met him, you would know why."

Eleanor huffed. "I suppose that means it is not a private joke of some sort?"

"Far from it."

"Isn't it a bit disrespectful to call your superior by a nickname?" Pansy asked scathingly.

"He actually prefers being called Red," Moon countered. "Says his first name is irritating to use every day. He even signs his documents as Red."

"He sounds… charming," Eleanor said carefully.

"He's really not," Moon said. "I'd say he's more along the lines of terrifying."

Eleanor tried—and failed—to keep a pleasant smile. "I'm sure he's not all that bad. Not if someone as nice as you calls him your mentor."

"He's nice once you get to know him as a friend."

The woman gave a nod. "Since he is your mentor… would you say that, if someone is trying to reach you, or set up a meeting or a deal with you, they would have to go to Red first?"

"I'd… prefer to talk to people directly," Moon said, somewhat annoyed at the idea of people communicating with Red to discuss her life or her work. "If the choice was between talking with my parents and Red though, you'd probably have more success with the latter."

"Fair enough," Eleanor said. The woman turned to her daughter, a smirk playing on her lips. "I need to find your father. Have fun chatting with your friend."

Pansy nodded tightly, her cold smile hanging on by a thread when her mother left.

"Your mother is friendly, isn't she?" Moon commented.

"Sometimes she is too friendly," Pansy said briskly. "Especially to people who don't deserve it."

"Why, Pansy, I thought I was your friend here. Friends don't talk to each other like that."

"We're not friends and you know that."

Moon put a hand to her chest in a dramatic fashion. "You wound me. I don't know how I will ever recover from such a slight."

"Miss Blakesley?"

The two girls turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing with his family and the Notts.

"Yes, sir?"

"I was talking with Oliver Nott here, and I realized that we have not seen any of your creatures as of yet. I understand it's rather sudden to be asking, and I wouldn't expect for you to carry the containers wherever you go, but I know that many of the guests would enjoy seeing one of your pokémon."

"It's fortunate that I brought one with me then," Moon said. "Could you get everyone to clear a space for me? I'd rather not have any incidents."

The blond man nodded, heading off to where the musicians were playing with his wife, leaving the Notts and his son behind. Draco's eyes flickered between Moon and Pansy.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Plenty," Moon said with a smirk. "Pansy and I were having the loveliest chat."

"It's always nice to see young ladies getting along," Mrs. Nott said, her voice cool. "Especially in cases like yours."

"Hopefully everything will be resolved soon," Mr. Nott said. "The faster the decision is made, the better."

"We can't rush things, dear. Wouldn't want to make any mistakes."

Moon glanced at the two adults curiously, then at her three classmates. Pansy's face had gone pale with anger, while Theodore and Draco were trying to ignore her. Before Moon could ask what was going on, Lucius Malfoy's voice cut off the music.

"I'd like to thank everyone for attending our gala this evening," the man said, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. "It's an important tradition in our society to gather at this time of year to discuss our plans for the future. As our world progresses, we must decide how we will guide it towards the right path.

"As many of you know, there's been a recent discovery of an alternate reality, where magical creatures roam the planet freely without complaint. These creatures and their magic are, for all intents and purposes, an accepted part of life. Some years ago, one of our own fell into this universe. Now his daughter, a young and talented witch, is here tonight, and has graciously agreed to give a small demonstration of the power of these magical beings."

The people moved away from the centre of the room, pressing closer to the walls to give Moon space. Some were craning their necks to get a better view. Moon slowly took a few steps towards the empty space, reaching for her handbag as she did so. Ninetales' pokéball rested at the bottom of the small purse. She removed it from the bag, aware of how many eyes were on her, expanded it, and pushed the button a second before she threw the ball in the air.

"Ninetales!"

The snow spirit pokémon leapt from the pokéball in a shower of light. Ninetales preened at the crowd's shock and awe. Moon held back a snort. Ninetales was her most showy pokémon, and the fox delighted in the attention that she received from others.

Moon smiled brightly and stepped closer to her pokémon. "This beauty here is Ninetales. While her kind can basically be found anywhere back in my dimension, she's a variation of the typical Ninetales that can only be found in my home region of Alola."

"What can it do?" someone asked in a loud, snobbish voice. Moon looked in the general direction, but couldn't find the person who had asked.

"She can do plenty of things, but her specialty is manipulating ice," Moon explained. Then, turning around to face Lucius, asked, "Would you mind if I showed everyone some of Ninetales' tricks?"

"I have to ask that you don't break anything in the process, but please, feel free."

The young champion nodded. "Fair enough."

She took a few steps back from the fox pokémon, silently evaluating the room. She couldn't tell Ninetales to start a hailstorm, or confuse any of the guests, or start roaring at people. There wasn't enough room to use her regular battle strategies. The space she had been given was large, but any misfiring could result in an injury. The ceiling, however, was notably high.

She met her pokémon's eyes, and both of them nodded.

"Prepare yourself with Agility," she ordered. Ninetales stretched her legs, went into a crouch and flicked her tails before standing back up.

"Launch some Ice Shards upwards," Moon directed. Blocks of ice the size of Quaffles were formed and thrown up into the air. One particularly large one, three times the size of the others, was thrown last.

"Now jump and use Tail Slap!"

Ninetales bounded into the air and smashed the nearest ball of ice with her tail. The previous use of Agility allowed the fox to propel herself between the Ice Shards using minimal force, becoming a blur in the air as she leapt from shard to shard. Each of the Ice Shards was turned into glistening powder as the fox destroyed them. The largest block of ice was starting to fall as Ninetales landed back on the ground, right underneath the falling ice.

"Finish it with Moonblast!"

Soft light spun around Ninetales, rapidly becoming brighter until the fox gathered it up with her tail and launched it at the ice. It shattered on contact, sending sparkling snow around the room. Ninetales dropped in a bow as a flake of snow landed on her nose.

The entire room erupted in applause. There wasn't a single witch or wizard that Moon could see who wasn't clapping. Even Pansy was reluctantly joining in, if only for appearance's sake. That was the best thing Moon could hope for.

Moon went back to Ninetales' side, allowing some people to come forward and pet her pokémon. Astoria was one of the first to approach, and although the girl was shy, her curiosity overrode any fear she may have had.

"She's a Ravenclaw," Daphne said to Moon as her younger sister stroked the fox's nose. "Always looking for a new thing to research."

Moon decided that she liked Astoria.

She eventually recalled Ninetales so as to not keep people from their planned evening of dancing. She walked back to the refreshment table and picked up a glass of punch. The champion looked back at the centre of the ballroom to see couples starting to dance again.

"Figures you work with wild animals."

Moon tensed at Pansy's voice. She turned around slowly to see the Slytherin girl standing next to her, holding her own drink.

"I'm aware that I'm better at Care of Magical Creatures than some," Moon said coolly. "Although whether I'd attribute all of that success to working with pokémon, rather than to listening to the professor and actually trying, is another subject entirely."

"Are you still playing this game?"

"You started it, and I intend to win."

"Fine. You win."

Moon blinked. "Well, that's no fun. I thought we had an understanding when it came to snidely insulting each other?"

"Look, Blakesley, I get that you're a high-profile person—"

"Self-made millionaire, champion, prodigy, and countess if you take that title seriously."

"—but the fact remains that you do not belong here," Pansy continued. "Your mother isn't a witch, making you a half-blood at best. Many people have had to marry those with Muggle ancestry out of necessity, but we keep a close watch on those people to make sure their bloodline doesn't become too tainted."

' _Great, another reason to hate you,'_ Moon thought.

"You're just an addition to the Malfoys' list of political allies. They're not considering you as another option, not for long anyway."

Moon raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'another option'?"

Pansy's frown became more apparent. "Don't act stupid, it doesn't suit you."

"I know, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you just trying to get me to say it?" Pansy seethed, clutching her glass tightly.

"Well, yes, I'd like to—"

Moon didn't complete her sentence as the contents of Pansy's glass was thrown directly at her face. They were frozen for a moment, with punch dripping down Moon's face and Pansy's expression of fury on hers.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?!"

Eleanor pulled her daughter away, a look of horror slowly setting in. The other guests were starting to notice what had transpired.

"Now, what was that for?" Moon asked, eerily calm. "All I was asking was for you to explain what you meant by 'another option'."

Pansy's face twisted into a sneer, and whatever scathing remark she was thinking of was kept back by Eleanor tightening her grip on the young Slytherin's arm. Moon would have repeated her question, had Narcissa not laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's get you cleaned up," the blonde woman said softly, contradicting the harsh glare she sent in the Parkinsons' direction. She gently led the young champion out of the hall and away from any onlookers that might have tried to follow them, and away from the explanation Moon was still waiting to hear.

 **Any guesses as to why Pansy freaked out?**


	25. Power and Ambition

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban**

 **Chapter Twenty Five: Power and Ambition**

Betrothal arrangements.

 _That_ was what Pansy had been in a snit over.

It was also what Draco had been embarrassed about.

It was also what everyone and their mother had been hinting at all night, not that Moon had noticed.

If she wasn't upset at herself for being so blind, Moon would have thought that the whole idea was hilarious.

"It was a possibility that everyone was considering," Narcissa explained when they reached a private area for Moon to clean the punch off her face. "You're an exceptionally skilled witch, with your own fortune and career, as well as proper manners. It would be idiotic not to consider a marriage arrangement."

"I thought the fact that I was a half-blood would negate that?" Moon asked slowly, letting a little disdain creep into her voice. It had the desired effect, as Narcissa winced at her words.

"As long as you can prove that you belong to a magical family—and there are tests to prove that, no need to recite your family history—most people are willing to overlook blood status."

"Don't people need four magical grandparents to be considered pure-blood?"

"That's one of the oldest definitions, yes," Narcissa agreed. "Nowadays, as long as a child has two well-respected magical parents, they can be labeled as a pure-blood."

' _Anything to keep the title of nobility,'_ Moon thought bitterly.

"And… you thought that setting up an arranged marriage between me and… someone else was a good idea?"

"It's not an arranged marriage, not in the typical sense," Narcissa said. "If you're not married by the time you are twenty one, it is a sensible option to have adults you trust match you with another person to ensure the continuation of a bloodline."

"Twenty one?" Moon wondered aloud. "That early?"

Narcissa pursed her lips. "When were you expecting to get married?"

"A few years later than that."

"It's tradition for witches to be married at that age. It certainly worked for me," Narcissa added.

"So then, Pansy and Draco…?"

"There was an understanding between our houses. It made sense for the two of them to marry when they got older. Not so much so now, with that outburst earlier," the blonde woman said tersely. "Such behaviour is inexcusable."

"She thought I was taunting her," Moon said, reaching for the towel that Narcissa held out for her.

"She attacked you, the guest of the Malfoy family, because she made a mistake. That is what's inexcusable. If her family still wants to be on good terms with us, they'll need to find a way to apologize for Pansy's behaviour."

Moon didn't return to the party that night. It was already late, and some guests were starting to leave when the punch incident occurred. She returned to her room marginally less soaked than before, fluffy towel still in her hand.

Needless to say, the rest of the Christmas break was awkward.

There was a heavy guise of politeness over every conversation, every interaction, and every glance in her direction. It was practically the same as before, except Moon knew what the two adults had had in mind, and what Draco had been trying to avoid discussing.

Moon was glad when it was time to head back to Hogwarts. She did appreciate the chance to play her role as a champion again, and she did enjoy the presents she received for Christmas, but she would be glad to get away from the overhanging idea of a future relationship.

Of course, returning to Hogwarts meant stepping back into a whole other kind of crazy.

"What the hell do you mean, you got a broomstick from Sirius Black?"

"It's not from him," Harry said. "It couldn't be."

The Come and Go Room was once again in use, except the group was down to three, as Hermione had taken to avoiding Ron and Harry. The brunette had believed that the Firebolt Harry had received at Christmas came from the escaped convict who also happened to be his godfather (apparently) and, unfortunately for Harry, McGonagall agreed.

"How could he have even gotten a Firebolt?" Ron said angrily. "Everyone's looking for him. It's not like he could just walk into a store and buy one."

"He couldn't have done that," Moon agreed, although she privately wondered if the man had been the one to purchase the broomstick.

"Who else could have done it?" Hermione questioned later when Moon confronted her in a corner of the library. "Those are expensive brooms, no one would just purchase one and not specify it was from them unless they weren't able to."

"Assuming that Black was somehow able to purchase the broomstick in the first place, and that his only goal is to kill Harry," Moon said, ignoring the way Hermione tensed, "why not just get a cheaper broom? A Nimbus 2001 wouldn't have gotten as much attention."

"If the Firebolt hadn't been confiscated, there'd have been nothing that would keep Harry from trying to use it," Hermione argued. "He loves flying far too much to even think of the danger."

"If there's any danger at all. We still don't know if the broom is jinxed or not."

"Why would Black send him a broom and not jinx it?"

"Why even bother to jinx it? It's not exactly comforting, but there are plenty of easier ways to kill someone than sending a highly expensive broom with some sort of curse on it on the off chance that they are the first one to ride it."

Hermione gave her an incredulous look. "Are you… critiquing a plot to murder someone?"

"How else am I supposed to tell if it makes sense or not? Run it through a machine?"

"Maybe don't do anything that makes you sound like a potential killer?"

"You have to admit, murder by broomstick isn't the most efficient method."

"Harry nearly died in our first year because of a jinxed broom," Hermione stated. "The Defence professor tried to kill him during the first Quidditch match."

"Did the professor jinx the broom before or during the match?" Moon questioned. She got her answer through the Gryffindor's scowl.

As much as Moon disagreed with the idea of Black trying to kill Harry with the Firebolt, she couldn't exactly think of anyone else who would even bother giving the broom away without signing their name. It was simply too expensive. Unless there was a mysterious, long-lost relative somewhere who had a ton of money they were willing to dole out anonymously, she'd have to at least consider the possibility of the escaped convict being the one to send the broomstick.

That idea was a constant itch in the back of her mind, more prominent than any of the other topics she was concerned about. While she never actively tried to think about the criminal like she did with school or with her work at St Mungo's, she'd find herself drifting in the middle of doing homework, wondering how the broomstick ended up in Hogwarts in the first place.

Life at Hogwarts kept her busy enough that she didn't have a chance to think about it too much. Her main concerns were keeping up with her schoolwork, as the teachers saw fit to start whole new topics once the holidays were over and assign essays relating to them, and attempting to contact Fawley to ask about what his grandmother said. She sat down a few nights after returning to school to pen a lengthy letter to the Healer and sent it the next morning. Moon waited for a reply for a week, but didn't receive anything. It was starting to irritate her.

"Stop fidgeting," Lavender said during Divination. "I can't read your palm."

"Sorry."

They had moved onto palmistry in Divination, which was a nice change of pace from the constant tea-drinking. That didn't stop Professor Trelawney from predicting Harry's death every class, of course, it just solidified the woman's belief that the kid was going to drop dead at any moment.

"You're ambitious, according to the text here," Lavender hummed. "Anything in particular that you want to do?"

"What I want to do right now is send a Howler to a guy that's ignoring me," Moon said through gritted teeth. Lavender raised an eyebrow.

"You have a boyfriend?"

"Oh—Merlin, no. I'm working on a project right now with someone, completely outside of school. I asked him some questions and he hasn't written back yet."

"That would fit with ambition, I guess," Lavender said, "and your heart line is all wonky…"

"Unlike yours," Moon replied.

"It's no secret that I'm a romantic," Lavender said with a smile.

It wasn't until the next morning that Moon received her reply. She handed the owl a piece of sausage before she opened her letter.

 _Meet me Saturday at 11 AM._

 _-Aidan Fawley_

"That's it?" she said, mildly confused. "No explanation whatsoever?"

She scanned every inch of the parchment to see if the Healer had slipped in a secret message somewhere. There were no markings, no indentations, nothing. Just the sentence.

"Jerk."

Moon ended up Flooing to St Mungo's by herself, as Fawley wasn't there to pick her up half an hour after eleven. She stormed through the halls of the hospital, flashing her consultant's pass at any Healer who got within five feet of her. She thought of looking on the third floor for Fawley, but got the odd feeling that he wouldn't be anywhere so public. That also excluded the staff room, the other above-ground floors, and the waiting room.

Room B120 was the last logical place to go.

She tapped her pass against the circle, causing the door to swing open to the lab room. Fawley was in the back, scribbling out notes to add to the clusters of paper scattered around the room.

"I think I found what we need," Fawley said, sounding frazzled. "A drop or two of the Draught of Living Death can reset a person's sleeping schedule completely. Mix that with the venom, and we might get rid of the fatigue. Let them sleep for a while before waking them up, and—"

"Aidan."

The Healer stopped rambling. He turned his head a degree towards Moon.

"I didn't think you were the type to attend galas."

"I didn't think you were the type to keep a huge secret."

"Oh yeah, I'm the one keeping secrets," Fawley laughed, completely devoid of humour. "Not like you are a self-made millionaire, politician, et cetera."

"That's a little less relevant than having a family member dying because of the disease we're trying to eradicate," Moon stated.

"It's still a secret."

"Did you really think that a girl from a dimension where carrying around mythical creatures in your back pocket was common would be perfectly honest and easy-to-read?"

"And I am?" the Healer asked, looking directly at the teenager.

"You're happy," Moon said, ignoring the question temporarily. "Constantly, irrevocably, happy. You've been this excitable ball of energy up until now. This project means the world to you. You've been waiting for an opportunity like this for years, it feels like. I'll be damned if your attitude and your past aren't linked."

Fawley waited for a moment, not moving a single muscle apart from blinking. It was a strange shift from being one of the most animated people Moon knew.

"Are you a Seer or something?" he asked, breaking from the frozen state.

"I take Divination."

"Well, you seem to be pretty good at it," he said. Fawley stood up from his chair, leaving his notes behind. "You're right; I've wanted to end lycanthropy since my brother died. Not out of revenge, though."

He glanced at Moon, who nodded. She wanted to hear his reasoning.

"I was five at the time. Tristan, my brother, was ten. I don't remember much of what happened that night, of course, I was sleeping. I recall hearing my parents shouting and spells being fired. The one who attacked Tristan wasn't anything like Greyback, just a wanderer that was too close to our house that night.

"Of course, no one believed him. My parents were members of the Werewolf Capture Unit—that's how they managed to stop him before he got the rest of us—he broke into our house when rumours of werewolves working with You-Know-Who started circulating, and my brother was dead because of the amount of injuries he had. He was sentenced to Azkaban for life without much of a trial.

"What I do remember well is him crying," Fawley said distantly. "He seemed to be grieving more than my parents over Tristan's death. He was completely distraught, practically begging everyone to believe that it was just an accident. That he never wanted to hurt anyone. And I believed him."

"That's why you're a Healer?" Moon asked.

"That's why I'm a Healer," he echoed. "I don't want anyone to end up like that man did. The sooner people can be free of that danger, of that possibility of hurting someone by accident, the better."

It was not the reasoning most people would have expected to hear, and yet Moon was glad to hear it. She leaned cautiously against one of the cabinets, evaluating Fawley.

"One of the weirdest things I learned when I got here was that my father was originally from here."

The Healer met her eye again, the confusion apparent on his face.

"He was a wizard who specialized in handling dark creatures. Somehow, just as the war was starting, he ended up in my world and met my mother. They weren't exactly young when they had me. My father was just over fifty.

"What I never expected to hear was that my father had a family prior to meeting my mother," she confessed, breaking eye contact with Fawley. "A wife, dead, and a son, still alive when my father disappeared from here. Still alive now, in fact."

Moon glanced back at Fawley. She could see the curiosity in his brown eyes, urging her to continue.

"He's a werewolf."

His eyes lit up with understanding. "One I've met?"

"No, don't think so," she said, the small lie slipping off her tongue. "He isn't… I haven't bothered to write him a letter or anything, he doesn't know that I exist, that he has a sister."

"Do you plan on telling him?" he asked.

"Not really," she answered. "I get the feeling that I should. It's not exactly fair of me to decide to keep this a secret. But of course, I can't exactly see why I have to tell him. If he never learns about me, then there's no problem."

"Except if he does learn you two are related."

Moon nodded slowly. "That's a possibility, admittedly not one I like, but there's nothing I can do about that. I just hope that I can eventually tell him, or avoid him."

' _Rather difficult, since we are in the same building 99% of the time,'_ Moon thought.

"I'd say you should write to him as soon as possible," Fawley stated. "If I had a little sister, I'd want to know."

Moon nodded again, filing away his advice for later consideration.

"Don't suppose I have to tell you to keep this a secret?" she asked. Fawley shook his head. He swiped a stack of notes from the desk.

"If you don't mind, I'd like you to look these over."

Fawley's notes were surprisingly detailed, and Moon had to wonder how he had managed to get so much work done since she was last at St Mungo's. A drop of Living Death, mixed with one vial of venom and diluted with enough water to fill a goblet, and they had their cure. The Wiggenweld Potion would be given to the patients twelve hours after the cure, waking them up and relieving them of any serious fatigue.

It was nearly perfect.

"Not something we can just slip into someone's morning tea though, is it?" Moon wondered aloud.

"Well, even if you could, it would probably taste disgusting enough that someone would think they're poisoned," Fawley said.

"Sugar can't fix that?"

"Strangely enough, sugar ruins most potions, and the few it doesn't are usually sweet anyway."

Moon hummed, flipping through the stack of notes. "You've been keeping me out of the loop, haven't you?"

"You've had schoolwork. And galas, apparently."

"What else was I supposed to do with my Christmas?"

"Stuff your face with candy and open a metric ton of presents, of course. Set off firecrackers in the hallways."

"Your Christmases sound vastly different from mine."

"Commoners tend to have more fun, your majesty," he said with an exaggerated bow. "Speaking of which, how are you a countess if your father is from here?"

"The Sevii Islands are a tourist destination, and one of their main selling points is selling noble titles. A friend of mine thought it was hilarious, bought one for each of us just so we have to write the thing out each time we sign an official document."

"Now that's just mean."

"Never said all of us champions are nice, did I?"

She went back to Hogwarts on her own, feeling much more comfortable Flooing by herself than she did before.

The letters came more regularly after that. Fawley had started writing every few days to alert her on how the potion was progressing. The method they had decided on appeared to be the least-risky option they had.

The trouble was then patenting it.

' _Since the venom is used alongside two other potions, there's some ancient copyright claims we have to work through,_ ' Fawley wrote to her one day. _'As we're just using the potions to counteract side effects, we should be fine, but it will take a while. The end of May is what we're looking at for a worst-case scenario.'_

"Knowing my luck, it will probably be just that," she grumbled.

Days inched along for the young champion. She mechanically went through her schoolwork, never letting herself receive anything below an E. Her heart and mind were far away from her work, even from the castle. Fawley's letters became mixed with a few short reports from the Ministry, giving her a few details about the progress her friends were making on finding her. Notes about how much the group missed her were tacked on to the end on the reports, and Moon could only imagine some poor Ministry worker having to write out the letter with Blue and May telling them to pass on whatever dumb remark they thought of that week.

Her classmates were stuck in a whirlwind of sorts as the work steadily grew more complicated. The Gryffindor trio had the most chaos surrounding them, naturally, as the tension between the three was constantly rising. The Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match was approaching, and the Firebolt had neither been returned nor discarded by McGonagall. That feeling of tension was leaking into the lives of the other Gryffindors, namely the Quidditch team.

On top of that, Harry was taking special lessons from Lupin to try and learn the Patronus Charm, something so complicated that it wasn't even commonly taught even in NEWT-level courses. It made sense, because of the Dementors, but it was also ridiculous. Harry was strong enough that he could possibly manage something beyond a weak shield, but how long would that take? It would take an extremely powerful and intense situation without Dementors for him to produce a corporeal Patronus.

When, on that Saturday, she saw the Gryffindor Seeker proudly show off the Firebolt, Moon had to deliberately ignore the sensation that something awesome was going to happen to keep herself from grinning like a madwoman.

The weather was clear and bright that day, if a bit chilly. Moon wanted to tag along with Hermione and Ron, thinking that the reappearance of the Firebolt would mean that the two would start mending their friendship. However, the two seemed to be staying as far apart as possible while remaining in the same area. Moon ended up sitting near Parvati and Lavender in one of the higher rows.

The match hadn't even started yet, and Moon could sense the joy from the crowd. Faces were smeared with paint to indicate who was cheering for who. Hufflepuffs, even after their defeat, were cheering for Gryffindor, while the Slytherins were on the Ravenclaw's side. It was an event that everyone attended, unless they were physically unable to.

It wasn't anywhere near the level of a top-tier pokémon battle, but it was close.

The sound of a whistle cut the air, and the teams kicked off the ground.

"They're off," a Gryffindor commentator—Lee Jordan, according to Parvati—announced gleefully, "and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt which Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" McGonagall interrupted.

"Right you are, Professor," Jordan responded, not sounding the least bit sheepish. "Just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and—"

"Jordan!"

Watching people flying for sport was a league away from experiencing it herself. Seeing both teams fly so elegantly almost made Moon forget about the wobbly, terrifying lesson she had. A streak of red followed by blue caught her attention. The Seekers had dived towards the Snitch. Harry would have caught it right there if a Bludger hadn't distracted him. One of the Gryffindor Beaters sent one right back to Ravenclaw.

"Gryffindor lead by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through the paces now. See it turn—Chang's Comet is just no match for it. The Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticeable in these long—"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Gryffindor's lead didn't last forever. Ravenclaw managed to score three goals before Harry located the Snitch again. He was blocked by Chang and lost track of the small ball. The teenage boy went up to search again, with Chang tailing him.

He must have caught on to her plan, as the Gryffindor Seeker went into an extremely sharp dive, pulling back seconds later and leaving the Ravenclaw to flounder. He then darted towards the Ravenclaw's end of the pitch. Chang followed him, only to cry out a second later as something below caught her attention.

Moon saw the three cloaked figures standing on the pitch. They resembled what she remembered of the sketch of a Dementor in her textbook, but there were several issues with them. They weren't floating, for starters, and they certainly weren't flying up to target Harry. The biggest red flag was that there was none of the rumoured cold sensation or misery that accompanied the creatures.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A brilliant, glowing stag of all things came thundering down from the spot where Harry was at microseconds before. The pseudo-Dementors collapse in an odd way, breaking halfway down their tall bodies. It was almost…

"Two children standing in a trench coat," Moon muttered over the roaring cheer that came with Harry finally catching the Snitch.

She didn't stick around much longer. Being dragged to a common room party when one didn't belong to the house could not be a pleasant experience, even though she wanted to speak with all three of her friends there.

Moon went to sleep that night, wondering what was going on between Ron and Hermione, and if there was any way she could solve it.

 **I've been attacked by several plot bunnies since Saturday's update. Nothing related to this story, mind you, just a bunch of random ideas that I'd** _ **like**_ **to make into stories, but probably won't. Extraordinarily frustrating.**


	26. Analysis

**I do not own the HP series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Some harsh language at the end.**

 **Chapter Twenty Six: Analysis**

Sirius Black had gotten into the castle again.

He had gotten into the Gryffindor common room, and had made it to the third year boy's dormitory. He had slashed open Ron's bed curtains before the redhead yelled and scared him off.

That was the story that was circulating around Hogwarts for days. Ron had become a minor celebrity because of the encounter, but the security was being upped again. No one could understand how the man had gotten past the Dementors and the portraits a second time. He had swiped a list of passwords from Neville, apparently, and had gotten past Cadogan's portrait with it.

The rest of the story was warped by the many gossipers spreading it, including Ron.

That wasn't what Moon was interested in, however. The story of how Crookshanks 'ate' Scabbers bothered her more. The parts weren't adding up in her head.

"It doesn't make sense," she said to Ron. Since the two weren't talking to Hermione anymore, it was up to her to make sure the boys did their homework. They were in the Come and Go Room, working through the homework given that week. "Crookshanks may be a cat, but he's smart enough to not eat someone else's pet."

"That bloody cat's been tormenting Scabbers since it laid eyes on him," Ron said irritably. "And besides, there were orange cat hairs all over my bed. Do you know of any other orange cat's that wanted to eat Scabbers?"

Moon closed her textbook. "The hair thing bugs me the most, actually. Crookshanks wanders around everywhere, Hermione carries him once in a while, and yet the only place where we find his hair is your bed?"

"What are you saying?"

"Crookshanks doesn't shed, Ron. Those hairs couldn't have gotten there unless they were pulled out."

"Maybe Scabbers fought back."

"Crookshanks isn't injured. And I can't imagine why a simple garden rat would think to leave behind enough evidence to prove who murdered them."

"Scabbers wasn't a dumb rat," Ron said heatedly.

"I never said that. I said he was a simple garden rat. Even if he did have some magical powers, I doubt it would be enough for him to think to leave behind evidence of Crookshanks eating him."

"So what then?" the redhead asked loudly. "Scabbers just disappears for some reason and the hairs and blood end up there somehow?"

"I'm not going to tell you to just believe that Crookshanks didn't eat him. I want you to at least consider the possibility. You're losing a friend over your stubbornness," she said seriously, directing a glance at Harry. "Is it really worth being right if it means losing your friend?"

"Seems to be that way for her, don't see why I have to be the one to let this go."

"Don't get me wrong, Hermione should definitely apologize. Saying that Crookshanks was just acting like a cat isn't a good enough excuse for her pet's behaviour. She should have at least attempted to keep Crookshanks away from Scabbers.

"That being said, the poor girl is really upset that you're not talking to her anymore," Moon said, looking Ron in the eye. "I think she's been worried since you were attacked."

"Then why hasn't she said anything?"

"Because you insist on treating her like an outcast. She's stressed with all her subjects and she needs support, but you are pettily deciding to not talk to her unless she says that her beloved cat murdered Scabbers. How would you have liked it if Hermione said Scabbers destroyed her favourite book and wouldn't take no for an answer?"

"A book is not the same as a pet!"

"This is Hermione we're talking about. She loves books almost as much as Crookshanks."

Ron huffed. "I just want to hear her say that she was wrong. Just that."

Moon felt sorry for the bookworm. Apologizing or admitting to being wrong was the worst feeling in the world when one is so sure they're right. And Hermione certainly believed she was right in defending her cat.

Neither of the two boys approached Hermione, although the girl tried to approach them. Moon watched the trio slowly break apart. Harry and Ron stuck together, leaving Hermione to drift by herself. Moon attempted to bridge the divide as best she could, trying to get the Gryffindors to see reason, but she was flailing like a Magikarp on land, using whatever she could at her disposal to get things back to normal, and failing miserably.

Moon managed to drag Hermione to the corner of the library on a Hogsmeade visit day. The brunette had previously mentioned that she was planning on staying back to finish some essays, and Moon offered to proofread her work. Hermione, although rather certain that she had gotten an 'E' on everything, took the offer.

"I can't help but notice that Ron's being an arse as of late," Moon remarked, drawing a snort out of Hermione.

"He keeps telling everyone how Crookshanks murdered his pet. That's a little beyond being an arse."

"Fair enough," the blue-eyed girl said with a small smirk.

Hermione continued to write what appeared to be a Charms essay. "If he would just stop talking to everyone about it, I'd be a little more fine with that. But no, he has to bring it up whenever I'm within hearing range."

"He certainly enjoys the attention it gets him."

"He's just happy that everyone's focusing on him instead of Harry, for once," Hermione said, barely holding back a scathing tone. "Those two do everything together, practically joined at the hip most days, always going off to do something _stupid_ —"

The quill Hermione was writing with snapped. Ink fell across the parchment in little pearls, the majority of them dotting the section that didn't contain any work. The tip of the quill, however, had fallen the last written word, smudging the ink beyond recognition.

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for a student. Quills were easily replaced—the studious brunette had even brought a handful in case the first one broke—and crossing out a word in an essay wasn't an unforgivable action in most teachers' eyes. But for Hermione, already burdened with an absurd amount of work on top of the strain she was experiencing with her friends, it was a massive flaw. Tears had begun to prick at the corners of the Gryffindor's eyes when Moon pulled her wand out.

" _Erado,_ " the blue-eyed girl whispered, pointing her wand at the smudged ink. The blotch evaporated from the paper, leaving the spot pristine. Moon quickly removed the rest of the ink droplets.

"Smudge-removal spell," Hermione said hollowly. "One of the most basic spells taught to students in first year. A variant of the Vanishing spell. Taught in a practical Transfiguration class during the first week of school."

"Now, see, most people wouldn't remember all of that," Moon said, putting her wand away.

"I didn't remember the spell."

"You're stressed. You froze for a second. It's fine."

"I can't remember a spell I learned before I even got here."

"You would have remembered it," Moon assured. "I just reacted first."

Hermione sucked in a breath and rested her head in one hand. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

"Then drop a class."

"I can't do that," Hermione said sullenly, "I've put so much effort into all of them, and it would be a waste to give up now."

"It's not a waste if you show some care for your state of mind," Moon countered. "You're an excellent witch, Hermione, but you're not the reincarnation of Bridget Wenlock. You need to rest."

Hermione ignored the girl next to her, picking up a new quill and furiously adding several lines to her essay. Moon let her eyes drift to the ceiling.

"Why not drop Muggle Studies?"

"It's an easy class. I don't even have to think for that one."

"Ancient Runes?"

"No way, that class is far too useful. It should be mandatory, in my opinion."

"What about Divination then? You hate that class."

"I thought it might have had some sense at first," Hermione said begrudgingly. "Being able to accurately predict cause and effect, and such. Instead it's just tea leaves and other rubbish."

"Rubbish I happen to like," Moon chuckled. Hermione's cheeks flushed Tamato-red.

"I don't understand how you enjoy that class, let alone take it as seriously as the others."

"You take Divination as seriously as I do, at least when you're not arguing with Professor Trelawney."

"I work hard in that class so that Tre—Professor Trelawney and her most devoted students can't claim that _'I'm not putting the effort in'_ and that _'my inner eye is closed from my stubbornness and restraint'_. You don't have to do that."

Moon spun an extra quill around on the table. Madam Pince was preoccupied by some second year Hufflepuff girls, who had decided to spend the day loaning what appeared to be every single book on Herbology, including the material covered in N.E.W.T. courses. Unlikely to bother them.

"I want to learn as much about Divination as I can because I know it's possible," Moon said softly. "Back in Kanto, where I grew up, there were loads of psychics and spiritual mediums. Having your palm read was about as common as getting your nails done. Even more so in the neighbour region, Johto. It's a highly respected practice where I'm from. Practically everyone believes in fortune telling to some degree."

"That's the problem though," Hermione argued, setting her quill to the side. "If everyone believes it, then they'll follow what they're told to do, and then believe even more when the psychic is 'correct' with their predictions. It's self-fulfilling."

"I'm not daft enough to think that predictions about what someone is going to have for dinner are proof that Divination is real. But you have to admit that some things are fixed in time."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "What's the point in Divination, then? You can't change fixed events, so they'll happen whether you heard the prediction or not."

"What's the point in knowing a storm's coming if you can't stop it?" Moon countered. Hermione's brow creased, her lips turning downward into something that was halfway between a frown and a pout.

"That's not the same."

"It's exactly the same," Moon said evenly, her gaze flickering over to Pince. Still avoiding them. "You hear that the day will be sunny and you plan a trip to the park. You hear that it will rain and you choose to stay inside. Someone says that it'll snow that day and you're pulling on your coat and thinking of building a snowman.

"And of course, when the weather reporter is incorrect, we laugh it off and still listen to them the next day," Moon finished, looking back at her fellow student. Hermione's frown had lessened, but had not completely disappeared.

"So you're saying that Divination is just a way to prepare for the future?"

"Essentially. That's what prophecies are for, after all."

"You believe in prophecies?" Hermione asked.

"I've seen a few come true," Moon confessed. "Battles between two opposing forces, disasters being avoided, leaders rising out of nothing… it'd be hard to hear people speak about these things and then ignore it when it does happen."

"You've seen prophecies?" the Gryffindor said skeptically. Moon nodded.

"There's three main ones that I can recall," the champion answered. "The first one being the clash between the two opposing concepts of truth and ideals. My friend, Hilda, came across a man who wanted to separate people and pokémon. He believed it would result in peace. Hilda, however, knew his vision was flawed, because it lacked true understanding. They clashed multiple times, and eventually Hilda won for good. I can't recall the full prophecy off the top of my head, but it was basically two people meeting and battling until the one with the strongest conviction won.

"The next one was actually a cave painting," Moon continued, watching Hermione's eyes slowly burn with curiosity. "It depicted a beast of unfathomable power being released prior to a meteor hurtling towards the planet. Both happened, although thankfully someone managed to keep the destruction of the planet from happening.

"And of course, more on the apocalypse, the last one I remember is about three deities, each representing a different element, wreaking havoc and failing to be calmed down, and the world turning to Ash, and the 'chosen one' finding a way to tame the three deities. Funnily enough, my mentor Red was the one to put an end to that incident."

"Why is that funny?"

"His real name is Ashton, Ash for short," Moon said with a small smirk. "He hates it, though, so we call him Red."

"So the world turning to Ash?"

"Meant we would depend on him, not burn to cinders."

Hermione hesitated. Blinked. Nodded. "I suppose that's… one interpretation."

"You think it's convenient?" Moon asked, knowing where the Gryffindor's train of thought was headed.

"That's another problem with Divination," Hermione said, "if you wait long enough, something that fits a prophecy is bound to happen, and then everyone claims that is was foretold or something equally ridiculous. It's the infinite monkey theorem in action."

"Prophecies and predictions can only ever mean one thing. It's human error that causes the confusion. Practitioners of Divination should work to separate the meaning from the obscure."

"Where did you hear that from?"

"Someone whom I respect highly," Moon said, not wanting to tell Hermione that she was rehashing Professor Trelawney's words.

"Your mentor?"

Moon shook her head. "He'd probably say Divination is rubbish. He's from Kanto, but I don't think he ever bought into the psychic craze."

"He sounded pretty reasonable when he spoke on the phone, aside from the swearing."

"Yeah, I'd say he's grounded, if somewhat sullen."

"He didn't sound sullen."

"You surprised him. He wasn't expecting someone to be listening in, and he's more relaxed around the lot of us than most strangers. I think he was trying to be polite."

Hermione wrote down the last line she could fit on the piece of parchment. "When you say the lot of you… do you mean the other champions?"

Moon nodded. "There's eight of us in total, although Gold and Rosa are Second Champions—they defeated a temporary champion when the First was unavailable—and Blue won't leave. We have to attend meetings every once in a while to keep the regions running smoothly, so we all are friends of sorts. Of course, I'm the youngest, so it's a bit awkward, but they're very welcoming."

A lightbulb went off in her head. Moon reached for her bag, searching for the stack of photos. She removed the bundles, flipping through each of them until she found the right one. She slid it across the table so Hermione could have a look.

"That was taken right after my first meeting," Moon said wistfully, "Calem—the guy with a blue jacket—wanted to record the moment he was no longer the newest champion."

"You look… like you ate something bitter and then told to smile."

That elicited a laugh from the champion. "There was this speaker who said something dumb, that I was too young to have a meaningful vote. I snapped, swore like a sailor at him. Think I made him cry a little. Red wasn't exactly happy with me after that. You know how parents threaten to wash a child's mouth out with soap if they say a bad word? It's actually worse than you think. Horribly bitter."

Hermione grimaced, her brown eyes scanning the unmoving picture. She drew in a sharp breath as her eyes landed on Red.

"He—his eyes…"

"You see where he got the nickname from?" Moon smirked. The brunette nodded, mesmerized by the photo.

"Those aren't contacts or anything, either," she continued. "Those are his real eyes. Same goes for Blue and Gold."

"That girl's hair," Hermione whispered. Moon looked over at the photo.

"Dawn? Yeah, her hair's blue. Not dyed. Your world's hair and eye variations are a bit limited."

"Yours are a bit weird," Hermione replied. "Who has natural red eyes or blue hair?"

"Those two, obviously."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

Moon took the picture back and put all of the photos into a side pocket of her bag. "Thank you, I try my best."

Hermione gave a half smile. "You have friends who are trying to get to you from another dimension, while mine are just wandering around Hogsmeade. Lucky you."

Moon froze. Ran over those words in her head. Something didn't add up.

"Harry's not allowed in Hogsmeade," she stated. Hermione huffed in response.

"I know. I told him that. But he has that map, and Ron didn't want to go by himself—"

"A map," Moon said.

"It shows some secret passages," Hermione said, "one which leads to Hogsmeade. And he has an invisibility cloak, so no one sees him."

"A map," Moon repeated, slightly dazed. "Since when?"

"He sneaked out on the last Hogsmeade visit, just before Christmas break."

The champion leaned back in here chair. "He knew how to get out of the school. And he didn't say anything to me."

She stood up, startling Hermione. Her chair was pushed back, and she began shoving her supplies into her bag. She looked at the Gryffindor, her face morphing back into the serene poker face she was used to.

"You coming or what?" Moon asked. Hermione just looked confused.

"Where?"

"You know where that secret passage is, right? Harry must've told you about it."

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Show me," she said. "I want to be the one to call them out on this, and I want the element of surprise."

Hermione stood up slowly, carefully putting her essay and materials into her satchel. She wasn't necessarily stalling, she was just giving Moon some time to think about the situation a little more.

Moon would not budge. She wasn't angry that Harry had sneaked out. He was probably safer in Hogsmeade than in the castle, if the last break-in was any indication. She was mad that she hadn't been informed. She knew that she wasn't his closest and most trusted friend, but she was still a friend, and he could have thought to tell her or invite her along.

As much as Moon wanted to run through the halls of Hogwarts, she had to follow Hermione, who insisted on going at a walking pace. Her fingers began to twitch, and she gripped the fabric of her school cloak tightly to keep her hands from shaking.

They didn't make it to the secret passageway that day. Ron and Harry were in the corridor that had the security trolls patrolling that hour, both of them looking mildly shaken. Ron caught sight of the two of them and scowled.

"Here to rub it in?"

"What?" Hermione said, surprised. "What happened?"

"The cloak slipped," Harry answered. "Malfoy saw me and told Snape. He kept trying to get me to say that I was in Hogsmeade."

"Professor Snape might piss you off, but not like this," Moon said. "What happened?"

The two boys looked at each other, and then at Moon.

"Professor Lupin defended me," Harry admitted. "Didn't even get a detention, but…"

"He took the map," Ron completed.

"He knew what it was," Harry said. "Even knew that we were in Hogsmeade. It could've been worse."

"Did chew us out for it, though," the redhead remarked.

"What did he say?" Moon asked. The two boys glanced at each other again, not responding. "You look more miserable than you would if it was Professor Snape who berated you. What did he say?"

"He said that I was gambling my parent's sacrifice away for a bag of magic tricks," Harry answered. It wasn't hard to hear the slightest traces of shock and disappointment in his voice, along with a faint amount of shame towards his own actions. He was at fault for sneaking out when a mass murderer was on the loose, and he knew it could result in him getting into trouble and decided to do it anyway.

On the other hand, it was grossly unfair to bring up the Potters' sacrifice to discipline their son, especially since the infraction had not resulted in any actual harm.

Moon could taste the soap in the back of her mouth as she stared her friend in the eyes and said the only thing running through her head:

"That is fucking bullshit."

 **I honestly feel like Lupin was too harsh when he took the map from Harry. The kid nearly died two years in a row and no one complains, but he sneaks out of the castle in broad daylight underneath an invisibility cloak to visit Hogsmeade and that's 'too risky'. Like Lupin never snuck out of the castle with the cloak.**

 **Thoughts on this chapter?**


	27. Confrontation

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban**

 **Chapter Twenty Seven: Confrontation**

The only good thing that came from Harry being caught outside of Hogwarts was that the tension between Hermione and Ron lessened. It seemed that having his idea backfire on his best friend gave the redhead a pinch of humility, and he began acting civilly towards Hermione again. The unease between them didn't vanish, but things began to turn in that direction.

The days that followed the incident were weird to say the least, the most notable thing being the time Hermione had arrived late to Charms despite being near Ron and Harry the majority of the trip. Moon was a bit skeptical when the boys relayed the story to her on their way to Divination, but it wasn't inconsistent with the brunette's recent actions. Hermione had been having troubling keeping up with all of her classes for weeks. It was no surprise to hear that she was starting to slip.

It wasn't entirely unexpected that things finally boiled over in Professor Trelawney's class that same day.

The classroom, as smoky and mystical as ever, had changed since the last lesson. Crystal balls sat in the middle of every table, with white mist swirling in the center of each orb. The four broke apart, the golden trio heading towards one table and Moon heading towards an unoccupied one. Crystal-gazing was not a partner based exercise, and so the classroom was more spread out than usual. A few other people, like Neville, were also sitting alone.

"Good day to you," Trelawney's voice rang as she emerged from the darker part of the classroom. "I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned."

Trelawney sat in a chair, her back to the fire and her face veiled in shadows. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

A snort came from the other end of the classroom, followed by Hermione saying, "Well, honestly… 'the fates have informed her'… who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!"

Moon suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, even though no one would see it. There had to be a good reason for Professor Trelawney to shift the lesson plan so suddenly. Seers weren't known for doing stuff on a whim, even to impress large audiences. Even if the professor wasn't a Seer, messing up her schedule for dramatic effect was pointless. The students had already decided whether they believed in her abilities or not.

"Crystal-gazing is a particularly refined art," the professor said mistily, as though she hadn't heard the interruption. "I do not expect any of you to See when you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practising relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes"—someone from the other end of the room giggled, most likely Ron—"so as to clear the Inner Eye and the super-conscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."

It was a relaxing process. Clearing the mind and distancing oneself from unwanted sensory input was similar to some forms of meditation that Moon had come across. She had never tried it herself, preferring to spar with her pokémon if she was trying to unwind or work through some problem, but she had to admit that it was effective. She might try it more often when she got back home.

If only she didn't have to struggle with keeping her eyes open.

The mist inside of the crystal danced slowly, morphing between different shapes and patterns. The mutterings of the classroom blurred around her, the occasional thought became a distant whisper. Her own breathing was magnified in her ears to the point where it sounded like wind.

The mist became blank squares, each the same size and each paper-thin, fluttering downwards towards the table the orb rested on. The squares—were they paper?—came to a stop, scattered. Something that was partially a hand, partially a claw, snatched one away—

Laughter broke Moon's concentration. She blinked. Scowled at the crystal ball. She was just turning her head to see who laughed when Professor Trelawney's voice cried out.

"Now really! You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!"

Trelawney went over to Harry's table, and even in the dim lighting, Moon could see their happiness melt away as the woman gazed into their crystal.

"There is something here!" Trelawney whispered, ducking down to get closer to the orb. "Something moving… but what is it?"

Everyone's attention was on them, although it was blatantly obvious what was coming. Moon would have said it herself if it wouldn't have been so rude to steal the moment.

"My dear…" Professor Trelawney said, her voice wispy and fearful. "It is here, plainer than ever before… my dear, stalking towards you, growing ever closer… the Gr—"

"Oh, for _goodness'_ sake!" Hermione shouted, breaking the classroom's trance state. "Not that ridiculous Grim _again_!"

Trelawney was shocked at first, and then her gaze became furious. She wasn't the only one in the classroom who was angry; Parvati and Lavender were glaring daggers at Hermione. Trelawney rose to her full height, towering over the students sitting at the table.

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my _dear_ , it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly Mundane."

The room was as silent as a vacuum for a moment. And then Hermione spoke.

"Fine!" the brunette said, standing up and forcing her textbook into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, almost hitting Ron when she swung her bag onto her shoulder. "I give up! I'm leaving!"

And with that, Hermione stormed away from Trelawney, kicked open the trapdoor, and descended out of the classroom. The room immediately broke into an excited chatter. Everyone knew that Hermione despised Divination, but leaving in the middle of class was entirely unexpected.

Professor Trelawney looked as though she had just run a mile, her face was so flushed and her breathing forced. Her hands clutched at the shawl around her next, pulling it tighter than strictly comfortable.

"Ooooo!" Lavender yelped, grabbing the attention of the classroom. "Oooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? _'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us for ever!'_ You said it _ages_ ago, Professor!"

Trelawney relaxed, giving Lavender a sugary smile.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs… the Inner Eye can be a burden, you know…"

Moon was conflicted on how to feel about Trelawney's prediction. On one hand, it was amazing and scary to see a prediction come true, especially given the long stretch of time that had occurred. One the other hand, she had hoped that she would be the one leaving around this time. Although she was far more attached to Hogwarts and some of its inhabitants than she had ever expected, the longing to go home was still there.

And, of course, there was a tad bit of jealously towards Hermione for her ability to storm out of the classroom, something that she herself lacked. For as much as she enjoyed the class, Moon wished she had the chance to leave Defence Against the Dark Arts.

The Defence class had become nearly unbearable since Harry had been caught outside the school grounds. At first, Moon thought it was just her being petty, holding an unnecessary grudge against Lupin for calling out her friends. But the more she tried to focus on her work and ignore her feelings, the more she noticed the different atmosphere in the room. It was subtle, but it was there; in the way Hermione wasn't asking as many questions, in the way that Ron and Harry focused on the board rather than on the teacher, and in the way that part of Lupin's previous enthusiasm seemed to have chipped off.

So it was not just her that was still miffed about the Hogsmeade incident.

On top of that, the Slytherins were becoming nastier and nastier towards the Gryffindors. That might have been because of the approaching Quidditch match—Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor, with both houses having a reasonable chance of winning the cup—but Moon was inclined to believe part of the attitude was due to Harry pelting Draco Malfoy and his lackeys with mud. Professor Snape's hostility toward both Harry and Lupin only furthered that behaviour.

In all honesty, while Moon knew his behaviour was not entirely unwarranted (unlike some people's attitudes), she found Lupin's coldness to be worse than Snape's malevolence. Maybe it was because she was used to Professor Snape's hatred of Gryffindors. Maybe it was because she had been given the perfect opportunity to despise the man who had, up until that point, been too nice to hate.

Frankly, Moon didn't care where her reason for being frustrated with Lupin stemmed from. She was simply glad to have a half-decent reason on hand to actively avoid him.

The last Defence class before the Easter break ended a second before the bell. The students rushed to pack up. Moon joined the stream to exit the classroom, her bag's outer pocket still partially open from stuffing the day's notes inside. She held it tightly to her side, not wanting it to spill on her way out but not wanting to stop and fix it until she left the room. She did not want to stay any longer than strictly necessary.

"Moon? Would you please stay for a minute?"

She froze mid-step. Dean clipped her shoulder as he tried to swerve around her. The boy gave her a sheepish grin as an apology as he exited the room. Moon put on her best neutral expression before she turned around to face Lupin.

He wasn't paying attention to her, choosing to spend a few precious moments cleaning papers from his desk as the last of the Gryffindors filed out. He looked as calm as Moon did, which said very little about how he actually was feeling. Lupin was one of the more animated professors, but the young champion doubted that he would be one to let his anger show in front of students. Or anyone, for that matter.

She resisted the urge to lean on a desk or shut the door when the last student left. If she looked like she was prepared to leave at any second, she might be let out earlier.

Lupin closed the main drawer of his desk before he looked up at her. His calm demeanour didn't hide his hesitation, or how he was regarding her like a Sneasel caught munching on an egg. Not with anger, but with a mixture of weariness of confrontation and disappointment that she was there at all. Which was strange, considering that he asked her to stay back.

"You wanted something, professor?" Moon asked as politely as she could. Her eyes flickered toward the small clock near the tank. She wouldn't be missing any classes, Defence was the last one of the day, but she wanted to know how long the conversation would be. She'd calculate the time it took later.

"I've noticed that you've been rather on edge as of late," Lupin remarked, as though he was discussing the weather.

Moon gave a small shrug. "Stress of the term," she replied.

"That's common around this time," he said, a hint of a fond smile appearing. "Easter wasn't ever a holiday for the students here. However, I've seen you work. You don't have issues with your essays and projects."

"I've been helping some others with their work. Tutoring isn't as easy as I thought."

Not a flat-out lie; trying to get Ron and Harry to study was taxing, but that wasn't the reason she was 'on edge'.

Lupin didn't look convinced. "I've asked some other professors. They're good at spotting stress, and they haven't noticed anything odd."

He moved around the desk so that there wasn't anything blocking him. "If you're having issues with my class in particular, it'd be best if I knew about them now, rather than just before exams."

"I do believe my last essay was a solid E," she said. That only drew a larger smile out of the man.

"Yes, and your previous work was mostly O's, with very few exceptions."

"Maybe this was just another exception," she said, her jaw becoming stiff in an effort to not clench her teeth. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and for a brief second she saw his nostrils flare— _was he trying to see if she was lying by scent?_

"I'm not sure if that's the case," he said carefully. "The previous E's were because of a few sentences that were hard to comprehend. This one was more… basic, cut and dry, than the others. You usually put extra effort into fleshing out the topic and creating something meant to be read, rather than just reusing information from the textbook. It might have been worth an O if there weren't any spelling mistakes—also different from your other essays."

She tried not to grimace. He wasn't going to fall for her saying she was stressed when he had asked the other professors. She could control her expressions and body language enough to lie convincingly in most cases, but that was a doomed path if he could know she was fibbing by her scent. Her best shot at getting out of the classroom unscathed was to say that she was too uncomfortable about her reason for being irritable the past week to speak about it. That wouldn't be too far from reality to count as a lie.

"If there's something going on, unrelated to schoolwork, it would be best to let me or another professor know before things get out of hand."

Moon looked at him directly, noticing for the first time that his eyes were a hazel-green colour. She was suddenly, intensely aware of the fact that her own eyes were blue, exactly as her father's eyes were. The comparison hadn't been made in years, but she knew that most people who knew her father remarked on that one similarity. Being found out for something so small would stress her out plenty. She chose to stare at the floor.

"It's not really my business to talk about it," she stated. Lupin's brow creased.

"I understand not wanting to be a snitch, but if someone's threatening you—"

"It's nothing like that," she said, a touch too quickly. Arceus forbid that Lupin starts thinking she's being harassed, or that she couldn't handle negative attention.

Lupin straightened to his full height. He always seemed to be tilting his head down or something else that made him appear shorter than he really was.

"Then explain it," he ordered gently. "Whether or not it's your business, it's bothering you enough to interfere with your schoolwork."

She removed her eyes from the floor. Debated if it was worth a potential detention to get every thought running rampant in her head in order for the rest of the day. Then she decided that she was going soft, if a small detention was the worst thing she imagined as an outcome.

"It's about what happened when you confiscated the map from Harry, sir."

Relief flickered across the professor's face, followed by confusion. He had been expecting her to say something else.

"Go on," he said.

Moon hesitated for a moment. Took a deep breath.

"Pardon me, professor," she said as evenly as she could, "but I don't believe that what you said to him was entirely fair."

"And that is what's been bothering you this week?"

"Yes."

Lupin nodded, his shoulders relaxing as though some invisible weight was taken off of them.

"Unfair how, exactly?" he asked, not even the slightest bit irritated with her criticism. That was one of the main differences between him and the other teachers; none of them would face scrutiny from the students with that much composure.

"I know that he shouldn't have been sneaking out," she said, although she herself would have sneaked out of the castle if given the chance, "but saying he was gambling with his parents' sacrifice for something so minor is a bit harsh."

He nodded again, slower. Going by the way his expression became cooler after she spoke, he understood what she was saying, but didn't actually agree.

"If Sirius Black wasn't still on the loose, I would be inclined to agree with you," he said. "Unfortunately, he hasn't been caught, and Harry is… well, particularly at-risk for being targeted by that man."

Moon didn't think that the professor would appreciate her thoughts on that matter. Everyone was convinced that Sirius Black's only goal was to kill Harry.

"I'm sure you've heard rumours about the last two years, Professor Lupin," she said. "An incident with the Philosopher's Stone and Voldemort at the end of the 1991-1992 school year that left Harry in the hospital wing for days. How he fought a Basilisk and nearly died from its venom just a year ago."

"He seems to be very prone to danger, and that's exactly why I don't want him to go wandering around Hogsmeade without permission," Lupin said.

"The last few times he's been in danger at the school, he's been rewarded for risking his life," Moon argued. "I'm not going to say he doesn't deserve recognition for saving the school—twice—but I don't think that praising him for nearly dying and then criticizing him for spending time with his friend—with an invisibility cloak on, in broad daylight, and not being noticed by any teachers or by anyone until that slip-up, might I add?—and saying that _that_ of all things was risking his parents' sacrifice… sir, I'm not sure you did anything other than reinforce the idea that his life is worthless in his mind."

For the first time since their conversation began, Moon saw a flash of anger appear in Lupin's eyes.

"And what makes you think he has this idea?" he asked evenly, his voice free of anger. She wondered if she had just imagined it.

"As I said, he's been praised for nearly dying before—technically for his heroic actions in saving the school, but still, nearly dying was a part of that—and I've heard… terrible things about his relatives, how he ran away from them back in the summer, and they don't sound like people who'd be too concerned if their nephew got killed."

She watched him become tense once again. The thought that Lupin had been close to the Potter family before that Halloween night, that he adored the then-baby boy like he would his own son, took root in her head.

Dumbledore had said that Remus had left Britain after the funerals, and that he was distraught from his friends' deaths, but the headmaster didn't say anything about how Remus reacted to being told that Harry was being sent to live with his aunt and uncle. She wasn't even sure that he was told that much. Dumbledore might have just claimed that Harry was safe and that it would be best if Lupin didn't disturb the family while they were adjusting.

Maybe that explained why Lupin was so close to Harry and yet so distant. Had the Potters not been killed, he would have been a huge presence in the boy's life. Instead, whether it was because of Dumbledore's orders or his own reservations, he was only the Defence teacher. The best one the school had had in years, perhaps, but still another teacher.

"He trusts you, sir," Moon said. "If I had to guess, you're one of the few people whose opinion he actually cares about. And that probably made it hurt more."

Lupin was silent for several moments as he contemplated what she said.

"I still think he should have shown more caution, considering the circumstances," the professor replied. "However, I will talk with Harry sometime after the break and amend what I said to him."

"Thanks, professor," Moon said. For the first time since school started, she felt the sense of unease about him being her half-brother lessen. Perhaps if she talked to him more during the last few months of school, she would work up enough courage to tell him that they were related.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Moon," he replied. "That is all, I suppose. You're free to go."

She smiled genuinely. A quick glance at the clock told her that she had been there for ten minutes. She turned around to head out the door, allowing her arms to swing a little—

Her bag bashed against the corner of a desk. This wouldn't have been a problem if the outer pocket hadn't been open. As it was, her notes from class, along with the pictures she had left in there over the weekend, spilled out onto the floor.

She huffed, then kneeled on the floor to try to gather the scattered paper. She saw Professor Lupin out of the corner of her eye handing her one stray photo and reaching for another. She took them and the other ones he managed to get to before her while sorting the photos and notes into a neat pile. After she had gathered everything she could see and what had been handed to her, she put the pile into the side pocket carefully and sealed it shut. She turned towards Professor Lupin to thank him, but the words got caught in her throat when she saw him staring down at the one photo she had missed; the one with boxed edges and yellowing paper, the oldest picture she carried around.

The last family photograph that was taken before her parents got divorced.

Lupin's face was slowly becoming pale, and if Moon looked in a mirror, she would see the same happening to her. With as much tranquility as she could muster, she held out her hand expectantly.

"Thanks for your help, sir."

There must have been a dozen or so alarm bells going off in the man's head, but he was still shocked enough to hand over the old photo. Moon held it between her fingers as she walked out of the classroom. She closed the door gently behind her and leaned against the wall. She examined the photo, already knowing what it was but still hoping that she might have been wrong.

The seven year-old version of her smiled brightly up at her. Her mother was still as graceful as ever. Her father was looking at them and not the camera, as though they were the only things in the world that mattered to him. As though he loved them like nothing else. As though her mother was the first woman he loved, and that she was his firstborn.

Moon crushed the photo in her hand. She unclenched her fist and let the paper fall, walking away before she could see it touch the stone floor.

It was just an old photo, anyway.

 **This reveal method was an idea I thought of long before I wrote the actual chapter, so it was really satisfying to write. Most of the little ideas I have are thrown away, so it was nice to hang on to this one.**

 **(Now that I think about it, I could write a few short parody scenes with some ideas…)**


	28. Rotom Learned Return

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Twenty Eight: Rotom Learned Return**

Moon's saving grace was that the Easter break made it far easier to avoid any confrontation with Lupin. There was more work than ever to complete, and shutting herself in her room or in the library like everyone else was tempting. However, she chose to work in the Come and Go Room. Mostly due to the fact that it's shifting nature would supply her with the materials she needed to do her work, but also because it was the perfect place in the castle to hide in if someone had a constantly updating map of the place. All she had to do was ask the Room to keep her hidden and she was safe. She doubted that the Room was on the map in the first place.

With the Quidditch final coming up, Harry was mostly unavailable for study sessions, leaving Moon as the mediator for any arguments that were stirred up between Ron and Hermione. They were willing to spend time around each other, as long as Crookshanks wasn't in the same room. Moon thought it was an improvement.

Even with the workload dropped upon them, the break went by in a flash. When Saturday arrived, everyone was ready to watch the match. The excitement was even greater than the last game Moon went to, due to the fact that whoever won the game won the Cup. Both the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws cheered when the Gryffindor Quidditch team walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. The Slytherins, strangely enough, applauded the Hufflepuff team. Probably due to the fact that the lions and the snakes were rivals, and the badgers and the eagles had their own animosity, although theirs was a bit more subtle.

The rush to get a good seat in the stands left Moon sandwiched in between Ron and Seamus Finnigan. Hermione was next to Ron, and Neville was next to Hermione. Other students crowded around them, and if it weren't for the benches, they would've likely been pushed up to the top of the stands.

Half the stadium erupted into cheers when each team was announced. Madame Hooch called for the captains to shake hands, and that was the first time Moon got a good look at the Hufflepuff team. Or rather, the first time she got a good look at their captain.

No wonder so many girls were making comments about Cedric Diggory, the Seeker was beautiful.

Every player mounted their brooms. The second the whistle blew, they were up in the air.

"Gryffindor starts in possession, Angelina Johnson with the Quaffle…"

The Chasers weaved around each other as they tried to grab the Quaffle. A pass was intercepted by the Hufflepuff Chasers, only for Alicia Spinnet to take the Quaffle back a second later and make the first goal of the game. The Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws whooped and cheered.

It was hard to keep up with the game. The Hufflepuffs were fair players when they were against the Gryffindors, and vice versa, so there weren't any fouls. After four goals were made by the Gryffindors, the Hufflepuffs got two in a row, to the apparent distress of the Gryffindor captain.

Suddenly, Diggory went into a dive, and Harry immediately went after him. They must have seen the Snitch. Diggory's small lead didn't last long, as the Firebolt was too fast. Harry was deliberately holding back so his team could score a few more goals to secure the Quidditch Cup, but he had to keep Diggory from catching the Snitch first.

A Bludger did the trick, whizzing past both of the Seekers' faces and startling them enough for them to lose sight of the Snitch.

Hufflepuff scored another goal before Gryffindor got back on track. They managed to get five goals over the next half an hour, bringing the score to 90-30.

Moon wondered if it would be possible to play Quidditch on a pokémon instead of a broomstick. She might have to experiment with that sometime if she brought the concept of the game home with her, although the idea of May insisting on playing with Rayquaza was almost a certainty.

Harry shot off from his position in the air, soon followed by Diggory. It would have been a pointless effort on the part of the Hufflepuff Seeker if the Snitch hadn't suddenly doubled back and flown down. Both Seekers dived towards it, approaching the ground at a dangerously fast pace.

Harry was a second quicker. His hand shot out, grabbing the golden ball and ending the game. The Gryffindors went wild, as well as the Ravenclaws, and even a few good natured Hufflepuffs joined in. The Gryffindor team practically dogpiled on their Seeker. Students started running down onto the field, and Moon sprinted with them to keep herself from being trampled. Hermione and Ron were at her side, and all three of them were grinning wildly. Harry, being carried by the flock of students, spotted them and grinned back at them.

It was ultimately just a school event, but one would have thought the team had won the World Cup with the euphoria they were showing.

The celebrations lasted for what felt like an eternity, but was at most a few weeks. Moon had missed the House party due to her unaffiliated status. She wasn't offended by any means—the additional security meant that no one, not even teachers other than McGonagall and Dumbledore were allowed in—and had spent the evening in her room smiling like an idiot.

She hadn't even been this happy when she won the championship. It wasn't even her victory that she was celebrating, for Eons' sake! Perhaps it was just the collective joy on top of her own that was making her feel so ecstatic.

In a short amount of time, her happiness wore off as other things were brought to her attention. Namely, Lupin's behaviour.

It was almost exactly as she predicted it to be; Lupin pretended like she was just any other student, even when he very well knew she was not. After being told that she was welcome to speak to him at any time, and after the conversation they held, it was as though she were shoved into a mental corner in the man's mind. There was a subtle but deliberate attempt to ignore her completely.

Or maybe Moon was just paranoid.

She did wonder if she had done the right thing in withholding the truth from him. She didn't like having news sprung on her or secrets kept from her. Her reasons for not telling Lupin about them being siblings were less altruistic and far more selfish in hindsight. Moon could not reverse time, however, and had to live with those choices even if she didn't enjoy the results.

With the month of May came extreme pressure to do well on their exams. The teachers were starting to double down on the work to give as many students as possible a shot at passing the class. The exams wouldn't be as complicated as O.W.L. or N.E.W. , but third year was an important turning point when students started taking extra classes, meaning extra exams.

In the meantime, Fawley had sent her another letter, detailing how they had finally gotten the last piece of paperwork through, and that the cure—officially, though rather lamely, titled Nihilego Draught—would be put on the shelves of St Mungo's at the start of June. The Ministry's werewolf-related departments (such as the capture unit or support services) were all collaborating to track down every registered werewolf to inform them of the cure and 'recommend' that they sign up for a spot soon. With only twenty four available beds, and a twenty four hour turnover period, it would take at the very minimum two months to get through everyone on the registry. Not to mention unregistered werewolves.

It wasn't long after Moon got the news that she noticed yet another change in Lupin's behaviour. He was lighter, happier, and more cheerful than she had ever seen. She asked Fawley to send her a list for everyone who had signed up for the month of June. Sure enough, she spotted her brother's name, slotted for the last day of finals. He'd be able to finish all of his exams, pack up and leave the school all before taking the draught at precisely 6 o'clock, the same time as the other 23 patients that day.

Finals were almost upon them when Moon spotted something floating outside one of the Transfiguration classroom windows.

A very _orange_ something.

The young champion stared out the window, her quill frozen above her parchment. She was supposed to summarize one of the topics they had covered over the year in one roll of parchment or less. Her topic was a relatively simple one; Animagi. The work was more or less completed, all she needed was a few closing sentences before she handed it in. Whatever was floating outside must have stolen all of her brain power, because nothing was coming to mind.

The floating object turned mid-air, going from an orange blur to a pentagonal shape with arms attached. A dark screen took up most of the space, and two electric blue eyes sat on top of the screen.

It was Rotom.

The pokédex caught sight of her immediately, and drifted closer to the window. Moon heard a faint buzzing noise, as though Rotom was trying to speak to her. She shook her head, completely confused as to why Rotom was there.

"Miss Blakesley? Is there a problem?"

Moon looked at Professor McGonagall, who was waiting for a reply. She couldn't say that there was an alien device hovering outside the castle. She couldn't even begin to explain Rotom, not in the middle of class.

"No, ma'am."

The champion looked down at her essay, dipping her quill in the ink pot before adding the last sentences.

 _The complexity involved in becoming an Animagus makes registration and Ministry aid a far more appealing option for those wishing to acquire their form. However, there will always be people who forgo registration for the sake of keeping their ability secret. Therefore, the true number of Animagi will always be unknown._

She set her quill to the side and cast a Drying Charm on the paper rather than waiting the extra minute. Moon went up to the front to hand the summary in. McGonagall scanned the parchment before nodding.

"That will be all, Miss Blakesley. You're dismissed."

She gathered her things in record time before heading out the classroom door. Rotom was floating by the next window she saw. Making sure no one else was watching, she undid the latch and pushed the window open to allow Rotom in.

"You will not believe the trip I've had," was the first thing the machine said to her. "It'zz been hours since I left, but it feelzzz like a week."

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"Not happy to see me?" Rotom buzzed.

"Of course I'm happy. I'm just confused as a Spinda. You said you would be staying at the Ministry."

"That was only until we got a method of getting back home finished, and not a second longer. I couldn't stand all the poking and prodding. It was terrible, Moon."

She rolled her eyes at the dramatic tone, but then her mind caught up with what was being said. "There's a way for me to get home?"

Rotom's eyes brightened. "Yeah, Dawn really went all-out. There's this huge arch of metal and wires—they had to consult a muggle expert to get the right stuff and then modify it, gave him a huge raise in return—and the last bit of testing worked out well. We'll be able to travel back and forth once someone from the other side goes through."

"Other side?"

"Dawn'zzz planning on coming through to get you. She wants to explore a little bit before heading back."

"Of course she does," Moon said lowly. Dawn was a brilliant, elegant, noble lady, but that didn't stop her from getting as much hands-on experience as she could manage. The blue-haired woman wouldn't be able to resist learning everything she could about the magical world when she arrived. There would be no telling how long Dawn would insist on staying.

Despite that knowledge, she had to smile. She would be going home soon.

"Glad to have you back, Rotom."

"Glad to be back, Moon. What'zzz happened while I was away?"

A chuckle escaped from her lips. "Oh, there's been a few things."

"This ought to be good."

 **A bit of fun before exams begin.**


	29. Examination

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Twenty Nine: Examination**

There were many things that Moon could be doing, and taking the exams with everyone else was the least appealing option. Watching everyone worry and fret over their work reminded her too much of the attitudes her classmates in mandatory school had taken. The subjects were different, but the behaviour was the same. The teachers weren't expecting them to perform perfectly, and anyone rarely did, so there was no reason to get hung up over minor mistakes.

"You're transfiguration was fine," Moon assured Hermione, who had been worrying over how her tortoise ended up looking like a turtle during the Transfiguration exam.

The exams did drag themselves out a fair bit, but that was only because Moon was hoping that, at any second, Dawn would appear to take her away. Attempting to distract herself by studying didn't work for very long. Having Rotom back didn't help her with focusing, either.

"So Harry lost two useful objects in one day because he sneaked out, and your first reaction is to swear and be mad at the teachers."

"Don't tell me you're surprised," Moon muttered, reviewing her notes. She could feel the other three students staring at her.

"Why were you upset with Professor Lupin?" Harry asked. "Snape, I understand, but Lupin kept me from getting in more trouble."

"It had to do more with what he said to you. I thought it was an unprofessional, low blow."

Rotom snickered, but didn't say anything.

"That didn't mean you had to go up to him and get him to apologize," Harry said.

"Lupin asked me to stay after class because I was angry at the time," she countered. "Maybe it was petty of me to hold a grudge, but my point stands."

"That'zzz not the only reason you were angry at him."

"Quiet you," Moon muttered, staring down at her textbook. She could feel Hermione's gaze.

"Is there something… other than what Professor Lupin said that made you dislike him?" the brunette said knowingly. Moon could guess her train of thought; the obvious assumption was that she hated him for his lycanthropy, despite what she had said earlier.

"No."

"Yezz there izzzzz," Rotom drawled. The pokédex was enjoying watching her avoid the topic. She threw a glare at Rotom, who did not look the least bit sheepish.

"You've always acted a little weird in his class," Ron said, drawing her attention away from Rotom.

"No I haven't."

"Yes you have."

"No I—"

"It'z because she's related to him."

All of the blood drained from her face as she whipped her head back around to stare at Rotom again. "Oh for fu—were you blabbing like this at the Ministry too?"

"Not that particular tidbit of information," the pokédex defended. "Just elaborating on what May was saying."

"You're related to Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked slowly. All three of them were ogling her like she had sprouted a third foot out of her ear. She released a slow breath. There really wasn't any way to get around it.

"Yeah, we're related. Half-siblings, to be specific, through my… our father."

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face. "That's why you didn't tell us about your father?"

"That's why I didn't tell anyone," Moon replied. "As far as I know, only Dumbledore is aware of this. And… Professor Lupin."

Rotom perked up. "You finally told him?"

"I accidently dropped those old photos I was carrying around. He saw the family portrait and… well…"

The electronic equivalent of a snort escaped from the pokédex. "Of course that'zz what happened."

"Mind if I see that photo?" Hermione asked suddenly. Moon rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding eye contact.

"I… kinda… left it behind…"

The hopeful look in Hermione's eyes faded. "Oh… well, never mind, then."

"Are you going to go back for it?" Harry asked

"I didn't really want to keep it that much," Moon said. Something clicked in her head, and she looked the boy in the eye. "Speaking of which, have you gone back for your cloak?"

"Haven't really gotten the chance," he admitted. "And if I get caught next to the secret passage again…"

"I could get it for you," Moon offered. His eyes widened in surprise.

"You'd do that?"

"Just tell me how to get to the secret passage."

"Tap the statue of the one-eyed witch and say _Dissendium_ , the cloak should be nearby."

"Professor Lupin has the map with him, and he knew what it was," Ron said. "He could catch you going there, and if Snape sees you—"

"I'll get the map first then," Moon said. "It has to be somewhere in his office."

Hermione gave her a scandalised look. "You're going to break into a professor's office?" she asked, her voice unnecessarily low for a room containing four people and a ghost.

"I don't think it will come to that, but I will if I have to."

Even with her declaration, there wasn't really a suitable time to enter a professor's office during exams. Most of her time was spent studying, doing the exam, sleeping, or eating. There were no opportunities to sneak in or drop by. Moon concluded that she'd have to wait until she was finished with exams entirely.

Some exams such as Care of Magical Creatures, where they worked with Hippogriffs again, went easily for her. Others were more difficult, such as History of Magic where she had to fight to stay awake, or Potions that required extreme precision.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was the most difficult of them all. Not in the execution of it, but the result. The obstacle course was unique compared to the other exams, but it wasn't that much different from some of the trials Moon had faced. She managed to get past the Grindylow and the Red Caps with ease, and only struggled with the Hinkypunk's directions for a minute. She ended up near a trunk that had expansion charms on the interior. There was supposed to be a Boggart inside that she'd face alone. She ignored the way Lupin was deliberately staring down at his notes as she climbed inside and shut the lid behind her. She could handle another fluffy Absol on her own.

Moon turned to face the Boggart, only to see Lupin standing there.

Her eyes instinctively darted up to the lid of the trunk. She hadn't _imagined_ him standing nearby, holding a clipboard and waiting for her to finish the exam. He had explicitly stated before the test that he would not be interfering with the obstacle course unless they were completely stuck.

"I thought you'd be smart enough to figure this out in an instant. Perhaps my expectations were too high."

She looked back at him. There was thinly-veiled disdain in his voice, something that she had never heard—or expected to hear—from the normally kind professor. That was when it clicked.

"You're the Boggart."

"That took you a while."

"I was expecting an Absol again," she said evenly, "not… you."

"Strange how Boggarts work," he said, much more pleasantly than before. "They know you better than you know yourself. And, if you don't know what your worst fear is, or how to make it funny…" the Boggart grinned, showing off sharp teeth, "you get stuck."

Moon was stuck. She wouldn't laugh at seeing the Boggart in a dress this time.

"You should have learned this years ago," the makeshift professor continued. "If our father had stuck around and had thought you were worth teaching, you shouldn't have had to learn everything last summer. You were kept in the dark until then, weren't you?"

The Boggart's grin only grew when she didn't respond. She shouldn't engage it in conversation, she had to find a way to make it funny before it got to her head.

"He didn't bother to check on you," the Boggart continued, "even after you did all those… what were they called? Heroic acts? You weren't the first one to do things like that, though. The other champions faced challenges far greater than what you experienced."

"You shouldn't know about that," she stated.

"You know about it, and that's enough for me," it said almost happily. "I'm what you _fear_ , after all."

"I'm not afraid of you," she insisted.

"Of course not," it agreed, much to her surprise, before continuing. "You're not that simple. This was just the best form to take. But, if you so desperately need the hint…"

The Boggart shifted and warped until it was no longer Lupin, but Red standing in front of her.

"You're so incredibly needy," the Red doppelganger said. "You try to pretend that you're this distant, untouchable champion who doesn't need to rely on others because you don't know how to make people like you. You crave approval like a toddler with a crayon drawing. There's nothing special about you."

Tears were starting to leak out of her eyes when the Boggart morphed back into Lupin. It sneered at her, taking a step closer.

"And against all logic, you want the approval of someone who didn't know or care about your existence until recently. Someone who's only obligation to care about you is through an arbitrary biological link."

The Boggart towered over her. She froze, not having a clue what to do to make it funny. It grinned maliciously, an expression that was completely bizarre on Lupin's face.

"How pathetic are you to want some recognition from a lowly werewolf of all people?"

Moon pressed the tip of her wand against the doppelganger's throat, an idea rapidly forming.

" _Riddikulus!_ "

The Boggart's form wavered before it was forced to shift. It was surprisingly like her first encounter with a Boggart, except instead of merely sprouting fur, the entire body morphed; the ears moved to the top of the head, the nose and mouth melded together into a snout, and a tail formed between the hind paws that were once feet. The other two paws rested on her shoulders.

She found herself staring into the startlingly humanlike green eyes of a werewolf.

The sound of the trunk opening caught her attention, but she didn't look away.

"Moon, is everything—"

Lupin's concerned voice broke when he presumably saw the form the Boggart had taken. She had nearly opened her mouth to respond when the werewolf-Boggart licked her face like Lycanroc did, covering her in drool from her chin to her forehead.

Moon laughed loudly, barely noticing the Boggart dropping to the floor with a whine and trotting to the back of the enclosure. She was still chuckling when she went to leave the trunk. Lupin hastily moved away to give her room to step out. She blinked rapidly, temporarily blinded by the sun and the remainder of her tears. When her vision returned, she saw the professor watching her warily.

"I thought you said you wouldn't interfere?" she asked, her enormous grin still prevalent.

"… The Boggart took you a while," he said weakly, "I wanted to be sure you weren't in trouble."

There was something in his voice that sounded like he was holding back from asking her about the Boggart's original form or why she thought a werewolf of all things was funny. There were still students waiting to complete their exams, however, so she was unable to explain. She wasn't even sure she could explain. She left the professor behind to go prepare for her final exam, the occasional snicker still escaping her as she walked back up to the castle.

Divination was the last exam, and although one could read about interpreting the smoke in a crystal ball until their eyes fell out, it couldn't really be understood through anything other than practice. Moon didn't bother to bring up her textbook to the tower. Hermione went off to Muggle Studies, and Harry, Ron and Moon went to the seventh floor. The other students were sitting on the staircase, some with their textbooks open, some others chatting.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville mentioned as they sat on the staircase near him. His Divination textbook was open at the section that went over the specifics of crystal-gazing. "Have any of you ever seen _anything_ in a crystal ball?" he asked, sounding overwhelmed. Both Harry and Ron shook their heads.

"I think I might've seen something," Moon answered, remembering the first time she looked into a crystal ball. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed that she saw her pictures falling to the floor, and Lupin taking one of them.

The waiting line gradually shortened as the students completed the exam one after another. As each student exited the Divination classroom, the people closest to them would immediately ask them how the test went, and what they were expected to do. No one answered.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that, if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" Neville said shrilly as he rushed down the ladder and away from the classroom. Enough students had gone through within the hour that the three of them had moved up to the landing.

"That's convenient," Ron snorted, his disbelief evident. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her," he gestured towards the trapdoor leading to the classroom, "she's a right old fraud."

"Wouldn't pass that judgement just yet if I were you," Moon said. "You've still got to take the exam. Wait until afterwards to talk about her credibility."

Harry checked his watch. "That'll be a long time to wait. Wish she'd hurry up."

Parvati was glowing when she climbed down the ladder.

"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer. I saw loads of stuff," she said happily, "…well, good luck!"

Parvati dashed down the stairs to meet with Lavender and discuss what they saw in their Orbs.

"Ronald Weasley," Professor Trelawney's voice chimed from above. Ron grimaced before climbing the ladder to the Divination classroom, leaving Moon and Harry behind.

"Do you think she's a fraud?" Moon asked as soon as Ron disappeared from view. Harry's brow creased.

"She's not exactly reliable with her predictions, is she?" he responded.

"Not sure about that," Moon said, her eyes drifting to the ladder. "She was right about Lavender's rabbit, and Hermione leaving. It's a bit too weird to call those coincidences."

"She keeps predicting me dying every time she sees me."

"She sees a big black dog, thinks it's the Grim, and predicts that you're going to die soon," Moon countered. "I'll say she's partially wrong in this case. Seeing the possibilities and interpreting them are separate parts of Divination."

He shrugged, as if he didn't care for an explanation to Trelawney's wild proclamations.

Ron eventually descended from the ladder, his face flushed from irritation.

"How'd it go?" Harry asked, standing up from his spot on the staircase.

"Rubbish," Ron said flatly. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though…"

Harry mumbled something that Moon couldn't hear, just as Trelawney's voice called out, "Harry Potter!" Ron gave her a nod before heading down the stairs, and Harry climbed up the ladder, leaving the champion by herself.

She leaned her head against the wall and let her thoughts drift. She still needed to retrieve the map and the cloak, preferably in that order, and preferably before the next day. Exams had gotten in the way, but she'd be free of them soon enough. The only problem was how to get the map from Lupin's office…

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before Harry was scrambling down the ladder, his face exceptionally pale and his eyes wide. Moon pushed herself off the ground, suddenly overwhelmed with concern.

"Harry?"

He opened his mouth to respond when Trelawney interrupted.

"Moon Blakesley."

Both looked at the ladder, and then back at each other.

"Meet me near the portrait of the Fat Lady when you're done, I'll tell you then," he said hurriedly. Moon nodded, watching him head down the staircase to join Ron. She turned back to the ladder and, with a deep breath, ascended into the Divination classroom.

The smoky sweet scent was more powerful than ever before. All of the curtains were drawn shut, and the only light came from the roaring fire and the enormous crystal ball that sat in front of Professor Trelawney.

"Come in, my dear, and sit," the woman uttered, her voice as mystical as ever. Moon sank into the plush cushion across from her professor. "Now, as you've done before, gaze into the Orb… watch the mist… tell me what you discover."

Moon crossed her legs on the cushion and leaned forward, pushing her thoughts of breaking into offices and meeting near a portrait to the corner of her mind. The fog danced within the crystal ball, slowly settling into a cloaked figure that hovered in the Orb.

"Well?" Trelawney's light voice pressed. "Have you seen something yet?"

"I'm… not sure what this is," Moon admitted slowly. "It could be a Dementor, but the head's all wrong…"

"Keep gazing, it will come to you," the professor encouraged. "What's it doing?"

"It's… it's following someone. A woman. But they're not alone…"

The cloaked creature was trailing behind a feminine figure, who was walking with three other people. There was another one with them, but their legs weren't moving.

"I'm not sure what this means," she breathed. The smoke wasn't doing anything to calm her down. The fog twisted to let shadows surround the figures. Two of the figures stumbled, while the other two—

"Best guess then. It's the effort that counts here."

Moon looked up at Trelawney's insect-eyes, breaking her concentration.

"It's someone's worst nightmare," she said, a chill running through her despite the stifling heat of the room.

Professor Trelawney leaned back in her chair, her magnified eyes blinking rapidly. Then, she nodded.

"Very well done, my dear," she said. "That will be all for today."

Moon left the cushion seat and made her way to the ladder. When her feet touched the floor of the landing and the trapdoor shut behind her, she moved towards the wall to lean against it. Her legs were trembling so much that she was having trouble standing. Her breathing had become sharp and uneven, so much so that she had to take deliberately slow breaths to calm her fiercely beating heart.

Whatever she had seen was not a Dementor. That much she was certain of. But the cloaked creature had made her heart race with adrenaline and fear. It was a familiar sensation, one she hadn't experienced in several months.

It was the same thrill she got when facing legendary pokémon.


	30. Overdue Conversation

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Thirty: Overdue Conversation**

When her breathing evened out and her legs stopped wobbling, Moon headed down the staircase. She wanted to force the incident during the exam out of her head, and she needed to meet up with the others. Harry had asked her to go to the portrait of the Fat Lady. As interesting as seeing the inside of the Gryffindor common room was, she had to make a detour.

She had had enough time to think on the stairwell, and came to the conclusion that there were two things that she had to do before the day ended. The first being retrieving the map and the cloak, as it had been several days since she made her promise, and it was unfair to make her friend wait even longer to get his possessions back.

The second thing was talking to Lupin.

It was an inevitability that she _had_ to face at some point. The Boggart had shown her that her self-doubts had gotten out of hand. Lupin had been avoiding her (as she predicted), but he had been concerned when she took extra time to deal with the Boggart. She didn't believe that he would have checked on any other student that was in the same situation. Harry, maybe, but his Boggart required special attention. An Absol didn't cause the same issues that a Dementor did, and she had been able to use the defensive spell when they practiced in class. He shouldn't have been worried about her if he didn't care at all.

That thought was what drove her to the door of Lupin's office. Moon raised a hand to knock, only to be startled by the sound of something crashing. A huff came from behind the door, followed by a drawer being slammed shut. Footsteps moved from one side of the office to the other. She rapped on the door twice, and the room went silent.

"Professor Lupin?" she said, loud enough to be heard through the door. "Mind if I drop in?"

She waited for ten seconds before Lupin's voice called, "Come in, Moon."

She twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. Lupin's desk was clear of any papers, quills, or books that could have piled up over the year. A briefcase sat in the middle of the desk, the top open and the sleeve of a shirt hanging over the edge. Lupin was holding a small pile of textbooks that he had pulled off the shelf. He went over to the briefcase and lowered the books in carefully, his arms barely long enough to set them down without dropping them in the extended space. He looked up when she closed the door behind her. Moon stood there with her arms crossed, her eyes focused on the windows.

"So," she said, not sounding as confident as she would have liked, "given your reaction to the photograph, Professor Dumbledore kept his promise?"

She looked at the professor. The man's initial confusion to her question gave way to resignation.

"Dumbledore knows."

"He was the one who told me," she said. "He said he wouldn't tell you about... well, you know—"

"The fact that we're related?" he interrupted, moving to a shelf near the back of the room to get a large, old book. "Not sure he had the right to keep that from me."

"He thought it would be better if I told you," she said.

"And were you planning on telling me?" he asked, not breaking eye contact as he put the book in the case and closed it up. Moon didn't hesitate in shaking her head.

"I figured it'd be best if you didn't know, at least until I found a way back home."

"And why did you think this?"

"There's not exactly an easy way to explain this," she said. "I couldn't have just gone up to you and said, 'Hullo, Professor Lupin, your father's alive and, surprise, I'm your half-sister,' now could I?"

His hands gripped the edge of the desk as he sat down in the chair. "I know you possess more tact than that, Moon."

"I also didn't want you to start acting like I didn't exist."

Lupin frowned. "You'd thought I would ignore you?"

"Less that, and more not acknowledging the situation."

"Like you were?"

"Figured you were dealing with enough things this year, and I shouldn't add to the list," she said with a shrug. "I'm not exactly Gryffindor material. Prefer to not have everything out in the open."

The frown disappeared from his face, replaced by a look of contemplation. He rested his arms on the desk, tapping his fingers against the wood.

"When's your birthday?" he asked suddenly.

"The first of August."

"Year?"

"1980."

He sighed, and it wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking. She was the same age as Harry, his dear friend's son.

"My—our father disappeared from here in 1978," Lupin said. "Do you know why?"

She shook her head again. "He never mentioned anything. Didn't even know about magic until Dumbledore told me."

Lupin stared down at the briefcase, his lips pursed and his hands laid flat on the desk. He was thinking carefully about what to say next.

"Dumbledore… did—he must've told you about my… condition…"

"Lycanthropy, you mean?" she said bluntly, noticing how he flinched in reaction to the word. "Yes, Dumbledore told me about that."

"Have you told anyone?" he asked cautiously.

"Not exactly. Hermione Granger knew after Professor Snape assigned the essay on how to recognize werewolves. I asked her to keep it a secret."

He nodded slowly, his eyes focused on her again. "What else did he tell you?"

"He said you had three close friends when you were here at school, and that the war tore you all apart from each other. I figured out later that he meant James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black. He mentioned that the past decade has been a struggle for you… and that's pretty much it."

"What about," he said quickly before stopping, weighing his next words carefully, "what about the Boggart? What was it before you cast the charm?"

"It was you," she said, choosing not to sugar coat the situation, "telling me that I was worth nothing. And my mentor, Red, calling me pathetic."

"And you thought that the form it took was funny?"

"I don't think that a werewolf who's not on Wolfsbane is going to be friendly, if that's what you're asking," she said, her arms tightening around her. "But yes, I thought that it was funny."

Lupin took a deep breath and looked around the room, as though he were looking for something to distract him from the conversation.

"Are you aware of something called Nihilego Draught?" he asked. Moon's mouth twitched as she repressed a grin.

"I believe I've heard of it."

"It's a recent discovery, only approved of a few weeks ago. It strips away lycanthropy, effectively curing werewolves of their condition."

"Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow as if she were surprised. "That's fantastic."

He nodded, looking down at his watch. "I'm supposed to be heading over to St Mungo's for that, actually. I have an appointment," he said, standing up from the chair and grabbing the briefcase.

"I won't keep you here, then," Moon said, moving back towards the door.

"Wait."

She paused, her hand dropping before she reached the doorknob. Lupin walked towards the door, stopping to face Moon.

"I don't believe you're worth nothing," he said gently. "You're an exceptionally talented witch and, from what I've seen, a trustworthy friend. I don't know if we'll ever consider each other as brother and sister, but I'm willing to try."

Moon gave a tentative smile and nodded. "I think that might work."

Remus smiled warmly before glancing towards the door. "I should get going. It was hard to get a spot so soon, and I'm afraid they'll give it away if I'm late."

One last look of understanding was exchanged before the professor headed out the door. He left the door open behind him. Moon waited until she heard his footsteps fade away to check the hallway. It was empty, as expected, as most teachers were busy with last-minute work and students were celebrating their freedom. She headed for the desk.

" _Renuntiatio_ ," she whispered, pointing her wand at the drawers. Light wavered from the tip, settling on the drawers as she moved from one to the next. One drawer glowed orange, indicating a minor alarm spell had been placed on it. A quick _Finite Incantatem_ removed it. She pulled the drawer open to see several pieces of blank parchment. She repeated the Revealing Charm, watching as the light landed on one piece and lit it up like a rainbow. Moon pulled the parchment out from the pile and closed the drawer as the light faded from it.

' _There's a ton of spellwork that went into this,'_ she thought as she exited the office, pulling the drawer closed behind her. Moon slid the map into her bag and headed to her next destination.

The hallway with the One-Eyed Witch statue was thankfully empty as well. Students were walking past the entrance to the corridor, but they were too busy chatting to look down the hall and notice the third year pulling out her wand and opening the secret passage.

A smooth cloth was pooled on the ground, just as Harry had said. Moon marveled at the liquid-like coolness of the cloak. It certainly wasn't any old Invisibility Cloak that could be made by hand or bought at the right store. There had to be a secret method to make something so unique.

Moon folded the cloak and slid it into her bag on top of the map, thankful for the extended space that it gave her.

The portrait of the Fat Lady was next. Gryffindor's common room entrance had been revealed back at Halloween, when Sirius Black ripped her portrait to pieces. She had been restored, but had insisted on being guarded. The trolls eyed Moon suspiciously as she passed by them. She stopped in front of the portrait, not seeing Harry nearby.

"Excuse me, have you seen Harry Potter recently?" she asked the woman in the portrait.

"He went inside just a moment ago," the Fat Lady replied.

"Could you let me in, please? I'm supposed to talk to him."

"Unless you have the password, you'll have to wait."

Moon evaluated the portrait silently. Of course security would be taken seriously after the last break in, but she was obviously not the escaped prisoner. Or maybe the password regulation was the norm for the Gryffindor common room. She still needed to get in, either way.

"Ogden Brew," she said clearly, using the first guess that came to mind. The Fat Lady took a sharp breath, startling the third year student.

"Who told you that?"

"It was a lucky guess," Moon said. "If that was the password, you need to let me in, right?"

The lady's face twisted into a pout before the portrait opened up like a door. Moon slipped inside and the portrait closed behind her, a bit more forcefully than required.

The combination of red and gold covered the entire common room. There wasn't a speck of any other colour, aside from the neutral browns and greys that went mostly unnoticed in favour of the prideful colour scheme. The room was virtually deserted, save for a familiar group of three huddled near the entrance, each with their back turned toward her.

"I don't know what could be taking her so long," she heard Hermione say.

"Maybe she foresaw that she'd be late anyway and decided to take her time," Ron said.

"Can't fight fate, now can I?" Moon said, loud enough to grab the attention of the trio and break them apart.

"How did you get in here?" Hermione asked.

"Lucky guess," Moon answered, reaching into her bag to pull out the two things that pulled her off track. "Thought I'd grab these before I dropped by."

Harry's eyes lit up at the sight of the cloak and the map, and Moon couldn't help but grin.

"How'd you get the map?" he asked as he took both objects from her hands.

"I was overdue for a chat, so getting into the office was easy, and the professor was in a hurry to leave."

"Better than breaking in, I suppose," Hermione said, but Moon could tell she wasn't too put out. She winked at the bushy-haired brunette before turning her attention back to Harry.

"Mind showing me how the map works?" she asked eagerly. Harry unfolded the parchment and went over to the couches, setting the cloak to the side as he placed the map on a coffee table. Moon followed him along with Ron and Hermione, choosing to sit on the floor so the other two could be near their friend.

Harry pointed his wand at the blank parchment and spoke carefully, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ink appeared on the page, sprawling out from where the wand met the parchment like a web. The lines twisted and crossed as they made their way to the edges of the map. Words in green ink appeared across the top in curly font:

 _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

 _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

 _are proud to present_

 _THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

Every inch of Hogwarts, save the Come and Go Room, was documented on the map. All rooms, hallways, and passages were revealed as well as the outdoors. Dots of ink with names attached moved across the map, showing where everyone was located at any given time.

"Wow," Moon whispered, her eyes watching the dot labelled Peeves bounding through a corridor, closely followed by Filch. "No wonder there's so many spells on this. The enchantments must've taken ages."

"Fred and George gave it to me for the trip before Christmas break. They took it from Filch. No clue how it was made, though, but it has to be old."

"Don't know about that," she said, thinking over the four names on the parchment. "If I had to guess, it's less than twenty years old."

Her eyes trailed over the page, going on to the grounds. Students were starting to head inside, as curfew would soon be put in place. Looking a little closer to the edge, Moon spotted a name that caused her heart to miss a beat.

 _Dawn Berlitz._


	31. Friends and Enemies

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Thirty One: Friends and Enemies**

"Who's that?"

Harry's voice broke her out of her stupor.

"Dawn Berlitz, current champion of the Sinnoh League," Moon said slowly. "She's the one who has been working on building a portal from my world to this one. Rotom said she was planning on being here and getting me."

"You're going home tonight?" Harry asked.

"Doubt it. By the looks of it, Dawn's busy talking with Hagrid," she said, watching the map closely. "Probably about pokémon, I'm sure he'd be interested in getting one."

Dawn stayed in place, even though the dot labelled as Fang trotted around her.

"Can't believe she's here already," Moon muttered. "If curfew wasn't soon, I'd go out there and tell her off for keeping me waiting."

"We could go," Harry said, his hands moving towards the Invisibility Cloak.

"Harry, it's almost time for dinner," Hermione said. "If you get caught, you'll be in so much trouble. They could expel you!"

"I won't get caught, then," Harry replied, "and I wouldn't get expelled, Hermione."

"With Sirius Black—"

"Black won't find us if we stay under the cloak," he said, standing up from the couch.

"It's not that big of a deal, really," Moon said, confused by Harry's sudden decision to sneak out.

"She's your friend, right? She should have contacted you to let you know she was here."

"Owl post is slow, and Rotom's been in my room all day," she said, although she got the feeling that there was no way Dawn would immediately come to Hogwarts after arriving in a new dimension. She would have been there for a day at least, giving her plenty of time to contact Moon.

"Do you want to see her?" he asked plainly, the Invisibility Cloak in one hand and the Marauder's Map in the other.

"Well, _yeah_ , but—"

"Then we're going," he said, "right now."

"You're skipping dinner?" Ron said.

"I'm not that hungry," Harry replied, moving the cloak to his shoulder and offering Moon a hand. He pulled her off the couch and brought her closer to the entrance. "Besides, she might not be here after dinner. As long as we're back before sunset, we'll be fine."

Moon wondered if this sudden desire to sneak out of the school had less to do with Harry helping her out and more to do with a case of cabin fever. He was the most watched student in the entire school, due to both his fame and the dangerous criminal after him, and it was obvious that he didn't enjoy the attention no matter where it stemmed from. Having the teachers keeping an eye on him during every waking moment had to have been suffocating.

She didn't object when the cloak was thrown over her head. It was large enough to cover both of them from head to toe, but it was still restrictive. They wouldn't be able to move very fast.

"Harry—!"

"Hermione," Harry said flatly, eyes glued to the map, his fingers gripping the edge strangely so they didn't obscure Hagrid's hut.

"Let them be, 'Mione," Ron said. "If they're back before sunset, they'll be fine."

Moon heard Hermione huff as Harry opened the portrait hole. The two of them manoeuvered through the gap and let it slide shut behind them.

"Who's there?" the Fat Lady asked warily. "I'm warning you, those trolls aren't for show!"

They headed down the staircases towards the main door. They froze whenever a student wandered too close. Draco Malfoy nearly walked straight into them, and would have if Moon hadn't stopped Harry in time. They slipped outside when a group of students passed through and the door remained partially open. The sun was still in the sky as they wandered through the grounds. The cloak kept the June weather from becoming unbearable.

"You do realize I was being figurative earlier," she said, trying to keep her voice down. "I'm not actually going to tell her off."

"I've been meaning to go see Hagrid anyway," he said.

"Were you planning on going undercover then?"

"No, but I wasn't expecting to get the map and the cloak back so soon."

"I said I'd get them back days ago."

"We had exams, and the only person more focused on them than you was Hermione," he said. "I was actually thinking of getting the cloak back myself."

"Don't have that much faith in me, huh?" she laughed. Even with the cloak casting shadows on them, she could see the back of his neck turn red.

"You were busy, and I thought…"

"That I'd forgotten or something?"

"I didn't want to remind you," he said. "You were intent on getting good grades, even though you're leaving."

"I wanted to end with a bang," she said with a smirk.

Dawn hadn't moved much by the time they reached the hut. They crept carefully through the garden, trying not to disturb the plants Hagrid had been working on all year.

"I'm not sure if a pokémon like Gible would thrive in this environment," a crisp female voice said from within the hut. "They prefer heat. Now, something like an Axew would be much better suited for the cold. That is, if you don't mind a few trees being destroyed."

"Tha' won't be a problem," Hagrid assured. "Shame, though, that the other lil' ones can't live 'ere."

"There are plenty of dragon types that would adapt well to the climate. However, I don't believe you're searching for a Swablu or a Trapinch. The lake you have is well-suited for Dratini, but they're more like small snakes than dragons at that stage."

They halted near the hut's wall, just where the window was. Harry deactivated the map and slid it into the sleeve of his robe. Moon peered through the dusty glass, recognizing the small woman standing next to Hagrid instantly.

Dawn Berlitz was known for looking flawless, and everything about her—from the elegant bun on her head to the trench coat style dress to the knee high boots on her feet—was entirely out of place inside the old cabin. Even so, the woman wasn't uncomfortable with her surroundings. Despite not reaching five feet in height, her presence in the room was as strong as the giant's. Moon didn't know if it was years of experience as a champion, or if Dawn was naturally inclined to having every eye on her due to her status as a noblewoman, but the blue-haired beauty was impossible to ignore.

Dawn was standing near the window, with Fang sitting near her feet. One of her manicured hands scratched the dog behind his ears, causing Fang's tail to sweep up a cloud of dust as it swung across the floor, while the other was firmly pressed against the opening of one of her dress' pockets, the contents of which appeared to be…

 _Squirming?_

Moon moved forward to get a better look. Her toe hit the wall with a small _thud_ , quiet enough to go unnoticed by Fang and Hagrid, but not by Dawn. The woman turned her head towards the window, and neither of the students dared to breathe as midnight blue eyes seemingly pierced through the Invisibility Cloak.

"Would you have visitors at this hour, Professor Hagrid?" Dawn queried, not removing her eyes from the window.

"Eh?" he muttered, checking the window and not seeing anything suspicious. "No' really, the students are on their way ter dinner by now."

"Apologies for keeping you for so long. I didn't realize it had gotten so late," she said, turning her attention back to Hagrid.

"No worries, I wasn' planning on having dinner wit' everyone tonigh'. Hippogriffs have been gettin rowdy, and the Thestrals haven' been much better. Need ter do some rounds ter make sure they ain' ripping up anything important. You should head ter the Great Hall, though. Ron will be glad ter see his rat's still in one piece."

Moon sucked in a breath; she _knew_ that there had been something off about Scabbers' disappearance!

"I think I'll wander around the grounds for a little while yet. Disturbing the students during mealtime is not the best approach to returning a pet."

"Suit yerself," the giant said. He pushed open the front door, Fang following him diligently, and set out towards the Hippogriff enclosure. Dawn stepped out the door and moved three paces away before looking at the spot where Harry and Moon were standing.

"I am well aware that you're still standing near the window," she drawled. "Seeing as you did not bothering entering, you did not come all this way to see Hagrid, correct?"

Moon met Harry's eye, silently communicating that there was no way to escape their situation.

"You are being extraordinarily quiet, although I suppose that fits with your disguise. Is this a spell of some sort?"

"It's a cloak," Harry said lowly. Confusion flittered across Dawn's face.

"An Invisibility Cloak," Moon elaborated.

A small smile graced Dawn, and she tilted her head back as though she had found the solution to a puzzle. "It's been a while since we've spoken, Moon."

"It would've been a lot sooner if you'd come here straight away," she grumbled.

"Nonsense, you would have missed your exams," Dawn teased. "Besides, the others gave me orders to wander around and collect information. Calem was begging me to get him any article related to wizard fashion trends; he's wanting to see if he could incorporate some themes into his next formalwear line."

Moon huffed in exasperation. The Kalos Champion was the biggest drama queen she'd ever met. She could only imagine what Dawn was leaving out of the conversation.

"Who's with you?" Dawn asked, her eyes wandering over the area where the students were standing. "I don't recall hearing your voice before."

"I'm Harry."

"Harry? As in, Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, that's me," he said, resignation creeping into his tone. Moon gave him a sympathetic smile.

"What are you here for?" Dawn pried.

"To see you, mostly, but also to get some fresh air," Moon answered. Dawn opened her mouth to speak again, but the contents of her pocket squirmed violently. She clamped both hands against the top and held tightly until it stopped moving.

"How'd you find Scabbers?" Harry asked.

"The same way I found the two of you," Dawn said, her hands relaxing but still preventing the rat from escaping, "I heard something and didn't forget about it. He was in an empty milk jug. Professor Hagrid told me that Scabbers belonged to a student and went missing."

"Ron thought Hermione's cat ate him," Harry said.

"Well, thankfully that's not the case—though he certainly acts as if I'm going to swallow him whole," she said with a grimace. Scabbers, trapped in her pocket, writhed and jumped.

"Ron will be happy, but Hermione will talk his ear off for an apology," Moon remarked. "Think we can convince her not to be too harsh?" she asked Harry.

"Doubt it," he replied, a knowing grin spreading before he nodded towards the castle. "She's going to hold this over him for _months_."

"Unless you wish to be caught for sneaking out onto the school grounds, I suggest we go to the castle," Dawn interjected. Moon raised an eyebrow, then realized the woman wouldn't see the reaction.

"We're allowed to be outside until dinner starts."

"So you chose to hide under an Invisibility Cloak, eavesdrop on my conversation, and continue to refuse to show yourselves even though you're allowed on school grounds right now?"

Both students flushed a deep scarlet.

"I suppose if there's a mass murderer on the loose, showing precaution is necessary when going anywhere," the older champion mused. Her hand drifted towards her bag, a fashionable black leather purse that must have been worth at least twenty of the old one Moon carried with her, and she gently laid her fingers over the outer pocket designed for pokéballs. "Still. It would be best if you two aren't handed detentions, mostly because Moon wouldn't be able to attend them."

"We're leaving then?" the younger champion said.

"Not tonight. There are still some things that need to be sorted out before we return home. We will head to the Ministry within the next day or so when everything is in place."

"What things need to be sorted out?" Moon grumbled. Dawn turned her back on them, then motioned for them to follow her. The two students nearly stumbled over the cloak as they tried to keep pace with her.

"The first and least odd thing that needs to be addressed is a new course being added to the Hogwarts curriculum," Dawn said. "Many Ministry workers have shown interest in obtaining pokémon of their own, but they would have no idea how to properly care for them. I offered the concept of having a course that teaches the basics of handling pokémon, and it was recently approved. It will take around a year to implement."

"The second, stranger matter is what the Ministry wants to label us as," Dawn continued, notes of disdain peeking through her calm façade.

"What?" Moon said, bemused.

"At first they were certain that we were simply Muggles—excluding you, of course—and that we had managed to create magic-compliant technology. They were excited enough about that, but then they began discussing how it would be possible to do such a thing, and how we did it when we were surrounded by magical creatures like pokémon, and how exactly training a pokémon affected the trainer, and so on."

Dawn glanced over her shoulder, seeing the empty space but hearing the footsteps following her own. "I didn't tell them about things such as Z-Moves, in case you're worried. I don't know much about it. May or Calem might have mentioned something about Mega Evolution and how it can strengthen the trainer, but that's not why the Ministry is having such a hard time classifying us."

"What do you mean, classify?" Moon said slowly.

"They're not certain if they can call us Wizards, Squibs, or Muggles anymore. They wouldn't have been in such a state if it were not for a… slip on Rosa's part."

"What did she do?" Moon asked, tired of how Dawn was dancing around the main point.

"Rosa is something called a Parselmouth."

This time, the two students did stumble and crash to the ground in an invisible heap, the cloak pinned tightly underneath their feet as the other side fluttered in the breeze while still concealing them.

"She can talk to snakes?" Harry asked hurriedly, although his teeth were clenched from the pain of the fall. Moon had heard rumours of him being a Parselmouth from some of the other students, but she never confirmed it. Judging from the look of hesitance and wonder that had overtaken him, he could talk to snakes yet loathed having the skill for its reputation alone. Knowing that there were others like him that weren't evil must have been reassuring.

"Any serpentine creature, really," Dawn said, not the least bit perturbed that the two had fallen over. "It caused a stir when we discovered that she has a supposedly magical ability. It's not just her, either. Lucy from the Hoenn Battle Frontier is also a Parselmouth. When I arrived, the first thing we checked was if I had any magical abilities… and I do, to an extent. I am able to brew potions and fly on a broomstick, but I am not able to use a wand. Presumably, most of the population of our world has similar skills. That would place us in a category somewhere between Squibs and Wizards regarding magical talent."

Dawn turned to them again and smirked. "A fair number of people are insisting on calling you a pure-blood witch, since you only have relatives with magical abilities. Care to explain that?"

"Later," Moon muttered, standing up slowly along with Harry, careful to keep the cloak from slipping. She checked her arms and legs for any sign of injury. Thankfully there were no scrapes she could see. Dawn chuckled, taking a step forward only to stop before her foot hit the ground.

"I know there must be more than one cat at this school, but is this the one you were referring to?" Dawn questioned. The two students looked around her to a familiar orange feline.

"What's Crookshanks doing here?" Moon wondered.

"Hermione lets him wander around the grounds," Harry explained. "She thinks he won't go after other people's pets if he hunts outside."

Crookshanks sat there, studying Dawn, as though he was waiting for something. Scabbers squeaked from within the champion's dress pocket.

"He knows the cat is here," Dawn said, "he must be—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence, as Scabbers finally managed to climb his way to freedom. He dropped onto the grass and scurried away from the humans, squealing when Crookshanks lunged for him. The rat dodged a blow from the cat's paws, darting underneath Crookshanks and running for any form of safety. Crookshanks hissed and gave chase, his claws a hair width away from the rat's tail.

"No—hold on!" Dawn snapped, running after the two animals.

"Dawn!" Moon yelled, making the move to follow her. The cloak tugged at her shoulders, reminding her that she couldn't run while under it. Harry ripped the cloak off the both of them, drawing a sharp glare from his companion.

"Everyone's inside, and Hagrid's busy," he remarked before breaking into a sprint. Moon ran after him, lagging behind a considerable amount even with his head start.

' _For such a small kid, he's really fast,'_ she thought.

Dawn reached the pets before Crookshanks caught Scabbers. She swiped Scabbers off the ground, holding the squirming rodent with one hand as she unzipped her purse with the other. She lowered the rat into her bag and shut it before he could escape a second time. Crookshanks mewled loudly, staring up at the purse with intense yellow eyes.

"He's not your next meal," Dawn chastised, lifting her purse out of the cat's reach. Crookshanks meowed louder. Harry slowed down from his sprint, giving Moon enough time to catch up and come to a standstill next to him, although she was far more winded than he was.

' _Need to get some more exercise in when I get home,'_ she decided, _'I've fallen way behind.'_

"Will he be alright in there?" Harry asked, staring at the small purse hanging from Dawn's shoulder.

"There's enough space and air for him to be comfortable," she replied. It was how the bags were supposed to work, after all; they would expand to accommodate whatever was place in them along with an extra inch of space. They couldn't be used as living spaces, but some trainers used them as temporary shelters from storms.

Dawn brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "We should head back to the castle… perhaps you should put the cloak on again until we arrive…"

A low, threatening growl caught their attention. They had been so focused on keeping Scabbers away from Crookshanks that they hadn't noticed the new animal in their midst. An enormous dog, covered in jet-black fur, was moving towards them. Moon gripped Harry's arm, ready to drag him back in case the dog attacked them. Dawn carefully took a step back, not taking her eyes off of the stray dog.

The dog dashed towards Dawn, lunging at her with both paws outstretched. Dawn shouted, aiming a defensive blow at the dog's chest. It snapped its jaws at her shoulder, falling when she moved back to dodge the bite.

"Stop— _stop that!_ " Dawn yelled, narrowly avoiding another blow from the dog's front legs. "Sit down, don't jump—you naughty dog!"

Harry dropped the cloak and grabbed his wand, but the brutish dog snapped at his hand the second it was raised. It jumped at him, throwing the Gryffindor off his feet as its paws collided with his collarbone. Moon had her own wand out, aiming for the dog's head.

" _Stupefy!_ " she yelled. The spell would have hit if the dog hadn't underestimated its tackle. The red light flew away as both the dog and Harry fell to the ground, the dog rolling off in an awkward somersault. Moon raised her wand again, another spell on her lips when claws sank into her calf. She gasped, looking down to see Crookshanks pawing at her.

"Crookshanks, get _off_!" she hissed, grabbing the cat's paws and pushing him away with one hand. The dog had gotten on its feet again, lunging at Dawn's shoulder. She fell, her arm bracing her head from impact. The dog's teeth clamped around Dawn's ankle, and it started dragging her away like a sack of flour.

"No—you— _don't!_ " Harry yelled, grabbing Dawn by the wrist. The dog tugged, snarling, its teeth digging even deeper into her ankle.

A branch collided with Harry, sending him tumbling to the ground. The dog dragged Dawn farther and farther away, approaching the thing that had attacked the Gryffindor. They had gotten right underneath the Whomping Willow when they had been chasing Scabbers.

Dawn was kicking and clawing at the ground, but she was quickly disappearing through a gap near the base of the tree as the dog pulled her in. Her hands clamped against the tree trunk, and for a second, it looked as though she was pulling herself free. Her blue eyes widened as she gave a pained cry, just before her head slipped underneath the tree.

She was gone.

Moon pulled Harry to his feet, and he pulled her down as another branch swing inches from her head.

"We have to follow them," he said, breathing hard. "That dog's large and mean enough to eat her."

"Not like we have time to run for help," Moon groaned. "But we can't just waltz over there and jump down. How do we get past the tree?"

The Whomping Willow was brandishing its branches. If they moved any closer, they'd be a red smear on the grass as the tree obliterated them.

"The dog got past the tree," Harry stated.

"The dog was lower to the ground than we are—do we need to army crawl our way there?" Moon asked, not expecting an answer. She focused on the spot where Dawn disappeared, noticing the orange cat wandering around the base of the tree. "Crookshanks?"

Crookshanks placed a paw on a knot on the tree, and every branch and twig froze in place. The leaves were stiff as boards, even with the gentle breeze. The cat waited at the trunk, his eyes never moving from the two teenagers

"Do you think he wants us to follow them?"

"He's friends with the dog, I've seen them together before," Harry muttered, walking towards the gap under the tree. "We still need to find your friend before she's seriously hurt."

The two of them dropped through the opening underneath the Whomping Willow. Crookshanks went in after them, shuffling around their feet to take the lead as they adjusted to the sudden darkness. A long, low tunnel stretched out in front of them.

"Any idea where this leads?" Moon asked.

"No idea," Harry replied. "It's marked on the map, but it goes off the school grounds. I think it might go to Hogsmeade, but Fred and George never found out where this passage went for obvious reasons."

They headed down the dark tunnel as fast as they could, Crookshanks trotting ahead of them with his tail raised proudly. Both students had to crouch because of how low the ceiling of the tunnel was. Moon tried to stay focused on the path ahead, but her eyes kept catching where clumps of earth had been torn from the wall or where streaks of blood peppered the ground. They were not old marks.

Light was ahead, and the tunnel took an upward turn. The tunnel spiralled as they reached the end, and Crookshanks darted out of Moon's sight. She raised her wand to use as a light source. Harry pulled out his, using the charm to light the end of the wand.

They had ended up in a razed mockery of a house, a room that had been patched and repaired countless times in vain. Dust floated through the air, settling on every available surface. There was a spotless streak on the floor, where something had recently swept the dirt away. The windows had been boarded up, allowing only the thinnest beams of light to pass through the cracks.

"Harry," Moon whispered, "I think this is the Shrieking Shack."

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes wide as he saw the destruction that had befallen the place.

"Ghosts didn't do that," he said quietly, looking at a chair that had chunks ripped out from it.

"I don't think ghosts were ever here," she whispered back. The house creaked, and both students looked upwards.

"Think she's in there?" Moon said. Harry nodded in reply.

They crept through the house, careful not to make any noise as they climbed the old staircase. The landing was dark and gloomy. The sound of something moving, and then purring, came from behind a rickety wooden door. Moon glanced at Harry, and both nodded before extinguishing their wands. With a powerful kick, Harry kicked the door open.

The first thing they saw was Crookshanks, sitting on an ornate bed. Dawn, more disheveled than Moon believed to be possible, was propped up against the side of the four-poster, her face pale and tight. Her blue eyes widened as the two teenagers rushed in with their wands raised.

"Where's the dog?" Harry questioned. Dawn shook her head, her breathing laboured from the pain.

"He's not a dog," Dawn said through gritted teeth. The door swung shut. Moon spun to see what had caused that, and her breath caught in her throat. A man, with waxy skin and matted hair, more akin to a corpse than a living human, was standing there. The blood drained from her face as she realized she had seen him before, in every wanted poster that showed up in the Daily Prophet.

 _Sirius Black._


	32. Enemies and Friends

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Thirty Two: Enemies and Friends**

Harry reacted first.

" _Stupefy!_ "

The red jet of light missed its mark by a hair as Black ducked out of the way. Crookshanks leapt at Harry, knocking the holly wand from his grip and sending it rolling across the floor. Black dove for it.

"No!"

"Don't you dare—!"

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

The apple wand was ripped from Moon's hand and landed in Black's gnarled one. Dawn had gotten on her feet, leaning on the bedframe for support; the bite mark on her leg was bleeding.

"You can't believe that you can come out of this alive," she threatened. Black's hand twitched; the holly wand flicking between his three opponents.

"Don't have to," he said, his voice gravelly from disuse.

Dawn gripped her purse, her fingers fumbling with the latch for the smallest pocket. "If you want to kill us—"

"There'll only be one murder here tonight," Black said, his face splitting into a mad grin.

Harry lurched beside her, and Moon gripped his arm tightly. He was practically _shaking_ from fury.

"Why's that?" he spat. "You didn't care how many Muggles you killed when you murdered Pettigrew. What's with the change? Gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry," Moon said cautiously, "I know how angry you are right now—"

"Do you?" he retorted, and she could hear the anger directed at her. "Do you know what it's like to be standing in the room with the man that killed your parents?"

"Voldemort—"

" _He_ sold them to Voldemort—he was the Secret Keeper— _he killed my mum and dad!_ "

It wasn't a conscious decision to let him go, but Moon's grip slackened just as Harry lunged at Black. He had forgotten, or he didn't care, that he was smaller and weaker than the man and that he didn't have a wand while Black had two; he was completely consumed by rage. His fist _CRACKED_ as it connected with Black's head; his free hand grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it to point the wands away from him. They both fell against the wall, crashing onto the floor.

"Harry, _don't_!" Moon yelled. There wasn't anything she could do, if she joined the fight she could hit Harry or get stunned—a jet of red light missed Harry's ear—and she didn't have her wand. Harry was punching Black without mercy, but the convict's free hand found his throat. She shrieked, immediately searching for something, _anything_ , to help her friend. Her hands found her bag, still hanging from her shoulder.

Moon ripped open her bag, looking for a pokéball, and swiping it from the rest.

"Stop them, and keep that man down!"

Lycanroc bounded out from the flash of light. The wolf clawed at Black's outstretched hand, freeing Harry a split second before he pushed the Gryffindor student back. Moon caught him as he stumbled into her; his face was red from the lack of air. Lycanroc gnashed his teeth near Black's face, his paws pinning the man's arms and legs against the wooden floor. Black struggled, the wands falling from his grip. The two students ran and grabbed their respective wands, pointing them at Black's head.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he croaked, sounding too soft for a mass murderer.

"You killed my parents," Harry said hoarsely. "You took my family away from me."

Black's eyes were distant, staring through Harry instead of at him. "It's my fault their dead, I'll claim responsibility for that. But you don't understand. You'll regret this if you don't hear my side—"

" _Why should I listen to you?_ " Harry seethed, his hand tightening around his wand.

"No one knows except for me," Black said, his voice suddenly more alert and urgent. "No one understands what actually happened—"

"I understand perfectly," Harry replied, his voice shaking. Black's head shook, looking madder than ever as his matted hair caught in the floorboards.

"You don't know—"

"You don't know what happened either!" Harry yelled. "You don't know how my dad tried to give us time to get away! You don't know how my mum _begged_ Voldemort to kill her instead! You don't know what it's like to relive that every single night!"

A loud purr cut him off; Crookshanks had crawled underneath Lycanroc and settled on Black's stomach.

"Get off of him," Harry ordered, his voice lower and rougher from his rant. "Crookshanks, move away."

But Crookshanks, stubborn as ever, only meowed and rested his chin on the filthy prisoner robes covering Black's undersized frame. Lycanroc nudged Crookshanks, but the cat had hooked his claws in the robes and would not budge. Harry's hand wavered, the wand pointed at Black slowly turning towards the floor as the need for revenge drained from him. His fury was being replaced by exhaustion.

"Wands away you two," a cool voice ordered. "You've done your fair share of the work."

Dawn was leaning against the nearest bed post, her hair smoothed back and her dress unrumpled. A Dusk Ball was held in one hand; the other gripping the bedframe for balance. She looked at the two teenagers evenly and nodded her head towards the wall opposite the door. Moon slowly lowered her wand, her other hand gripping Harry's shoulder as she pulled him away from Black. He didn't resist.

"Now then," Dawn said smoothly, her gaze shifting to the man pinned under Lycanroc. "You've caused a number of headaches for the Ministry with your escape from Azkaban. There's a large reward for the person who captures you, and I do believe Cornelius Fudge gave the Dementors permission to perform the Kiss if you ever crossed their path. I saw a few of those creatures in the distance on my way over to Professor Hagrid's—I doubt it will be hard to get their attention once we're outside this place."

Dawn let go of the bedframe and made her way over to Black, her injured leg dragging behind her. She kneeled beside his head; he was staring at her with terrified grey eyes, his breathing laboured.

"But I won't call them on you," she said softly. "Not until I've gotten my answers."

"What?" Harry said, stunned.

"Dawn," Moon warned, "Black's an escaped convict."

"And he's a mass murderer and he's Voldemort's right hand and he escaped to kill you, Harry Potter," Dawn said, a disbelieving note threading through her words. "Everyone 'knows' that, but I don't believe that that assessment is entirely correct anymore."

"What?" Harry repeated, his hand tightening around his wand again. "Why do you think that?"

"He had the perfect opportunity to drag you down here and kill you, but he took me instead. It's impossible for him to know who I am; there's no reason he would want to kill me. Expecting you to follow him would be a gamble—an asinine one if you're the target—and as you said, only killing one of us would be out of character if he killed those Muggles along with Pettigrew. Even when you were fighting, he was only trying to subdue you, not kill you."

Dawn met Black's eyes, her own blue ones cold and distant even as the gears in her head were turning. "You want to explain everything to us? I'll give you one chance, that and no more. If you lie to me, or attempt to attack us…" she spun the Dusk Ball in her hand, and stretched her arm back to give the pokémon the space it needed to appear. "Darkrai, stand guard."

A shudder ran down Moon's spine as the nightmare pokémon was released. It's appearance was similar to a Dementor's, but instead of being covered by a hood, its head was unguarded, allowing her to see the electric blue eyes and the hair-like smoke that trailed from its scalp. It remained in mid-air behind Dawn.

"If you waste this chance, I'll show you a power far more terrifying than any Dementor," Dawn said heavily. Her eyes broke away from Black's to find Moon's. "Would you mind calling off Lycanroc for the time being?" she asked calmly, as though she hadn't threatened a man's life.

"Come here, boy," Moon said softly. Lycanroc looked at her briefly before levelling his nose with Black's and, with a warning snarl, crawled off of the man towards his trainer. Crookshanks stood up and stretched his back, sauntering his way to the students. Black was still sprawled on the floor; his mouth cracked open in disbelief; his chest shuddering with uneven breaths; his eyes flickering between Darkrai and Dawn, not knowing which one was more of a threat.

"Well?" Dawn lilted. "Do you wish to lie on the floor gaping like a Magikarp, Sirius? Or do you want to explain your side of the story?"

He pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes lingering on Darkrai for a moment before he looked at his hands, resigned.

"It's a long story."

"One you were eager to tell earlier," Dawn remarked. "Explain as much as you can, we aren't in a rush."

"It—everything started in our first year of Hogwarts," Black said, not looking at anyone. "I was Sorted into Gryffindor, and I shared a dormitory with three other boys; Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and your dad," he said, turning toward Harry with the last two words. Moon noticed that his eyes were misty. He looked away.

"We were all fast friends. We helped each other with school, bullies, and any other problem that came our way. Back then, we were unbreakable.

"But someone was keeping a secret," he said, his yellow teeth pulling at the skin around his lip. "One that he was too afraid to share, 'cause he thought we'd get him kicked out. As if we hadn't spent the first year as his best friend."

"You mean Professor Lupin?" Moon interrupted. Black's mouth quirked up in a mock smile.

"Knew he'd be a teacher someday…" he muttered, glancing at Moon with a raised eyebrow. "You figured out his secret, then?"

"In a sense, not that it'll matter much now," she answered. Black stared in confusion. "That's off-topic. Continue."

He nodded, fingers tapping an unknown rhythm. "We wanted to help Remus, in any way possible. We came up with a plan that involved the three of us becoming Animagi."

"My dad was an Animagus?" Harry asked, his resolve to not listen to a word of what Black was saying breaking.

"He was a stag," Black offered. Moon smiled; the apple didn't fall far from the tree, if Harry's Patronus was any indicator. "I'm a dog, as you saw, and Pettigrew… he is a rat.

"We never registered with the Ministry," he continued. "The war was just picking up, and we thought that having a trick up our collective sleeve would come in handy. Dumbledore didn't even figure it out, even with the nicknames we used…"

"Nicknames?" Dawn queried.

"I'm guessing you mean Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," Moon said with a smile. That drew confused looks from everyone in the room.

"You mean like the map?" Harry asked.

"You have the map?" Black asked, alert.

"It's how we found out Dawn was here in the first place," Harry answered. Something almost proud and almost sad crossed Black's face.

"Of course you got hold of the map. James would've wanted you causing as much mischief as we did."

"Again, that is off-topic," Dawn said, and a shadow fell across Black's face.

"We were all working against Voldemort, but things weren't going well. Every raid, every surprise attack, every secret meeting, the Death Eaters—Voldemort's followers—had the upper hand. It wasn't a stretch to think there was a spy among us. When Dumbledore came to us and said that Voldemort was targeting James and Lily and that they needed to go into hiding, I knew we had to do something extra to keep them safe."

A forced laugh escaped from his throat. "I thought for sure that Remus was the spy. He was always away for weeks, never being straight about where he'd been. So when we came up with the plan, I went to the rat instead, thinking that he'd be the best choice." His eyes focused on the purse Dawn was holding. "Dumbledore insisted that the Potter's hide with the Fidelius Charm—hide their location in another person's soul, in a way that the secret can only be given out willingly by the keeper—but he couldn't force them to pick a certain Secret Keeper. I was the obvious choice. Too obvious, for my liking. I convinced James to switch to the rat at the last moment."

"You weren't the Secret Keeper," Harry said flatly.

"What's the point in having a Secret Keeper if everyone knows who it is?" Black asked rhetorically. "No, everyone would have known if it was me—everyone did think it was me. No one thought that Pettigrew had been the Secret Keeper. Not even Dumbledore. Not even Remus."

"You said you killed my parents," Harry stated, anger creeping into his tone.

"I was the one to suggest switching to the rat," Black said hoarsely. "It's my fault that they're dead."

"What happened after you switched Secret Keepers?" Dawn prodded.

"We had Pettigrew stay in a hiding place. I was going to check on him that night, but he wasn't there. There were no signs of a struggle—it was too clean—and I knew he had left willingly. When I heard what happened," his voice broke, "I went to Godric's Hollow. Hagrid was there. He said that Dumbledore ordered him to bring Harry to his aunt's place; I couldn't convince him otherwise, so I offered him my motorbike before going after Pettigrew.

"I cornered him on the street when he started shouting how _I_ betrayed James and Lily," he said bitterly. "He pulled out a knife and hacked off his finger before blowing up the street and everyone nearby. He transformed into a rat and went into the sewer to join the rest of his kind, leaving me to deal with the aftermath."

"They said that you were laughing," Harry pressed. A bitter grin crossed the older man's face.

"I just got outsmarted by an inept excuse for a wizard, two of my best friends were dead, my godson was taken from me, and I was being carted off to Azkaban," he explained with a shrug. "Laughing seemed appropriate when the universe had just screwed me over."

"That still doesn't explain why you went after me," Dawn said.

Black's head lolled as he pointed at the expensive purse in her hands. "You have Pettigrew with you."

"What? _Scabbers?_ " Moon said incredulously. "You're expecting us to believe Peter Pettigrew's been hiding with the Weasleys this whole time?"

"I know what he looks like," Black stressed. "I saw him—here, look," he reached into his robes and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, shoving it into Dawn's hand. "On the boy's shoulder, when his family won that raffle. Look!"

Dawn smoothed out the newspaper clipping and scanned it. "It's Scabbers. What else am I supposed to see?"

"Look closer, at his paw."

"His paws are—wait," she paused, "his toe is missing."

"Scabbers could have lost a toe anywhere," Harry said, but it sounded like he was reaching for explanations.

"How long has the rat been with your friend?" Black asked, his eyes intense.

"Ron's had him since first year, but he was with Percy before that…" Harry answered, becoming less and less certain that Black was a madman. "He started getting ill back in the summer, just after you broke out."

"He must've known I was after him," Black said.

"And Ron thought it was the cat," Moon drawled. Crookshanks purred, his bottle brush tail held aloft.

"That cat—Crookshanks, right?—is smarter than other animals," Black said. "He knew I wasn't a dog, and I bet he knew that Pettigrew isn't actually a rat. I eventually managed to communicate with him and tell him what I was after. He tried bringing the rat to me—but that failed, so he tried to get me to the rat. He stole a list of passwords for me, but at that point Pettigrew was missing. Must've bitten himself and left the blood on the sheets, faking his death worked before, after all."

"So you saw Dawn putting Scabbers—Pettigrew—into her bag, and went after her?" Moon asked. Black nodded.

"I needed to get at him—I _still_ need to get him," he said, turning to Dawn. "Give him to me."

"Do you plan on killing him straight away?" Dawn asked.

"Yes."

"I don't think I can allow that."

" _What?_ " Black snarled, sounding like the large dog he was before. "Why not?"

"Well, first of all, I would like to hear Pettigrew's side of the story. Even if it is a pack of lies, it could shed some light on the details you missed. Second, if what you say is true, then I believe we have a high chance of getting you pardoned if we bring Pettigrew in alive."

"You think Fudge will just let me go free after all this," he said bitterly.

"I think he won't have a choice," Dawn replied. "You do, after all, have three very important witnesses. The Boy-Who-Lived, and two champions—positions equal to the Minister of Magic. He'll have a difficult time ignoring us."

Harry gave Moon an inquisitive look. "You never said anything about that."

"It wasn't important at the time," she said with a shrug. She faced the Sinnoh Champion. "He's still a rat. How do we convince anyone that he's Peter Pettigrew?"

"There's a spell that will force him back into a human," Black answered. "I'll do it, but I need a wand first," he said, looking at Dawn expectantly.

"I don't have a wand," she said. Confusion passed over his face; his mouth moving to ask why someone would be at Hogwarts without a wand when he was cut off.

"Here, take mine."

Moon looked at Harry; he was holding his wand out for Black to take. Black was as surprised as she was.

"Just for the spell," Harry stated. "I'm taking it back afterwards. And if you try anything funny," he stopped, nodding towards the dark presence on the other end of the room. Black nodded in return, understanding the implication. His claw-like hand grasped the holly wand; Harry released it.

"Put him on the bed," Black directed. "Hold him there; he'll try to run."

Dawn unzipped her purse and reached in, withdrawing a squeaking, frightened Scabbers. She held him firmly despite his writhing, and sat him on the bed, still keeping both hands on him to stop him from escaping. Black raised the wand, a spark of blue-white light flying from the end.

The rat squealed and twisted. His form grew from a rat's into a human's; limbs sprouted from where his paws had been; his nose went from the end of his face to the centre; his squeaking turned into shrill sobs—although they still sounded like a rat.

The man that had appeared looked like a shrunken version of an adult. He was shorter than Moon was, and he had the appearance of someone who had lost a lot of weight in a short period of time. His skin was grubby and dirty. His head was covered by thin, practically colourless hair, except for the bald patch. His face was still rat-like; his nose was small and pointy; his small watery eyes darting everywhere. He was looking between the door and the window desperately.

"Well, hello there," Dawn said lightly, her manicured nails digging into his shoulders. "You must be Peter Pettigrew. I have to say, you look surprisingly healthy for a dead man."

"Please…" he said, his voice holding onto the squeakiness from his previous form. "Please, Sirius… my old friend…"

Black jolted, and Moon went forward and grabbed him by the wrist. He paused to give her a questioning look. She pulled the wand from his hand and gave it back to Harry. Black didn't stop her.

"Why did you do all of this Peter?" Dawn asked vaguely.

"He—Sirius went after me," Pettigrew said, his hands shaking as he pointed at Black. His index finger was missing. "Right after He Who Must Not Be Named killed James and Lily—he tried to kill me then—he's still trying to kill me!"

"He's not going to kill you," Dawn said gently, a chilling overtone to her words. "After all, we still need our answers."

"Answers?" Pettigrew said shakily. Dawn's hands dug further into his skin as she stood up and moved off the bed, drawing a small shriek from the man.

"Sirius has been generous with his explanations today—I wonder if you'll be the same?"

"You—you can't listen to him!" Pettigrew cried. "He's mad! He was mad even before Azkaban!"

"Terribly sorry to contradict you, but he seems rather sane to me," Dawn said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"He tried to murder me in cold blood, and killed all those Muggles at the same time," the small man argued. "I had to disappear. I knew he'd come after me someday, to try to kill me again!"

"You _knew_ he would break out of Azkaban?" Dawn queried, an eyebrow raised. "That is an odd assumption, seeing as he was the first."

"He was the Dark Lord's right hand man! He has dark powers we can only imagine—who knows what tricks You Know Who shared with him!"

A snort, followed by a hollow laugh, came from Black. "Voldemort, teach me tricks?"

Pettigrew flinched horribly, as though he had been struck.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" Black remarked. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you now, are they?"

"I don't understand—what are you talking about, Sirius?" Pettigrew mumbled, his breathing fast and sharp. His face was covered in sweat.

"You haven't been hiding from _me_ for twelve years; you've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… they all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potter's on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways… if they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter—"

"I—don't know—what you're saying," Pettigrew said, his voice sharp and shrill. His watery eyes darted between the three witnesses in the room, searching for someone to help. "You—none of you can believe this ridiculousness, can you?"

"Don't know," Moon said, already knowing that Pettigrew's defence was weaker than Black's, "I can't understand why you would hide as a rat if you were innocent…"

"I am innocent, but I was scared!" Pettigrew bawled. "I knew Voldemort's supporters were everywhere; surely they'd be after me for putting their spy in prison—Sirius Black!"

"Why not ask for help?" Dawn said politely, throwing a sharp look at Black when he growled. "You were hailed as a hero, bravely sacrificing yourself to take down Sirius Black. Surely Dumbledore would have helped you if you had asked."

"I couldn't risk it," Pettigrew stressed. "It would only take one slip for me to wind up dead. I was lucky to get away the first time—"

Black snorted, cutting him off.

"You were always lucky, weren't you?" Black said savagely. "You never got injured on the missions we got sent on—stunned at worst, not so much as a scratch on you. You were god-awful at duelling during school, how do you explain your sudden ability to avoid being hit? Voldemort must've told his followers to leave you be… couldn't risk his source of information, could he?"

"This again?!" Pettigrew yelped. "Me? A spy? Honestly, the idea… completely far-fetched…"

"Lily and James only made you Secret Keeper because I suggested it," Black spat so forcefully that Pettigrew recoiled. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream that they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… but you always did crawl over to the bigger wizards to protect you, didn't you Peter? It was me and Remus and James back during school… and afterwards it was Voldemort and his followers when you got scared of them. It must have been the finest moment of your life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew's mouth was opening and closing, but no intelligible sound was coming out.

"Guess that's why you never went after Harry these past few years," Moon commented. "Voldemort's out of the way, and Dumbledore's nearby. There'd be no point in revealing yourself now."

"Why would I want to harm my dear friend's son?" he said shrilly, his voice beginning to crack.

"Because you're a coward," Black said. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. The girl's right—you weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…"

Pettigrew was completely silent, his face pale and sweaty. Moon glanced between him and Black; there were still some parts of the story missing, she was sure of it.

"Excuse me, Sirius?" she said. Black looked at her, his eyes confused. "I'm just curious; how'd you break out from Azkaban without using Dark Magic?"

"Yes!" Pettigrew squeaked. "Thank you! That's what we should be talking—"

Moon pointed a wand in his direction, glowering at him. "I wasn't speaking to you, now was I?"

Black was quiet, contemplating his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly, cautiously. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" he paused to swallow. "They feel their way towards people by sensing their emotions… they could tell that my feelings were less—less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…

"But then I saw Peter in that picture," he said, facing Pettigrew once again. "I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"

Pettigrew was terrified, shaking his head, but his eyes never left Black.

"… ready to strike the moment he could be sure of his allies… to deliver the last Potter to them," Black continued. "If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honours… so you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive…"

Moon felt Harry freeze next to her. She put a hand on his shoulder, noticing that he didn't react. He was thinking about something important; too focused on Black's explanation to notice anything else.

"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… it wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… it's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog… I've been living in the Forest ever since… except when I come to watch the Quidditch matches, of course… you fly as well as your father did, Harry…"

Black met Harry's eyes, not breaking away.

"Believe me," he croaked. "Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

Several tense second passed before, finally, Harry nodded.

"NO!" Pettigrew shrieked, moving forward. The students aimed their wands at him, but Dawn was quicker; her hand latched onto the back of his tattered robes.

"I think we've heard all we needed to hear," Dawn said pleasantly, her hand tightening around the fabric as Pettigrew tried to break free of her grip.

"No—please, you have to understand—I had no choice, not with Voldemort's supporters in every corner—you can't take his word over mine—!"

Moon knew that the only thing left in Pettigrew was the need to beg for mercy, to grovel at their feet as he tried to earn their pity. He was cornered, and terrified because of it.

"I most certainly can," Dawn replied. "And I'm sure the Ministry will as well."

"You must be as mad as him—"

"There, some people would agree with you," Dawn interrupted. "Still, we should be heading up to the castle—and I don't think you're going to walk with us willingly…"

Dawn looked over at Darkrai, still floating in its position. "Would you mind, terribly, knocking him out for the time being? I promise I'll wake him eventually."

Something akin to the sound of radio static came from the nightmare pokémon, and an orb of deep purple light shot towards Pettigrew. It struck him in the chest, knocking him onto him back. His eyes had just slid shut when he began twitching and whimpering.

"What did you do?" Black asked, staring at Darkrai with trepidation.

"Nothing too awful—he's just having a nightmare," Dawn explained. "He won't wake up—not naturally, at least—so we can take him up to the castle without him trying to escape," she said, regarding Pettigrew—who had gone quiet—with disdain. "How to do that, though…"

"I can levitate him through the passageway," Moon offered. "It wouldn't be hard."

"That will do," Dawn nodded. Moon pointed her wand at Pettigrew, and with a muttered " _Levicorpus_ ," levitated the man off of the bed. She redirected her wand, and his body was pulled along with her, as though attached by a rope.

"Well then," Dawn said, looking between the other three people standing. "Moon, stay in the back along with Darkrai—as tempting as it is, don't knock Pettigrew's head on the ceiling—I'll go in front of you. Sirius, Harry, would you mind leading the way?"

"What about your leg?" Sirius said.

Dawn waved a hand, uncaring. "I've trained pokémon for around ten years now; I've had worse."

Moon ignored the smirk Harry shot her, holding up Lycanroc's pokéball.

"Time to return, boy. Thanks for your help."

Lycanroc vanished into the pokéball. They went out of the room and down the stairs in a line; Sirius, Harry, Dawn, Moon, an unconscious Pettigrew, Crookshanks wandering underneath Pettigrew's legs, and Darkrai, who had sunk into the shadows; invisible except for the dark patch that gave away his location.

The passageway was low and dark. Moon had to actively keep Pettigrew's head from hitting the rocky ceiling, but no one called her out when he knocked against a stray rock. Dawn wasn't limping as she moved through the passageway. Her leg was dragging a small amount, but it didn't slow her down.

"Why did you insist on letting him live?" Sirius asked from the front of the line, the question directed at Dawn.

"It might just be my opinion, but I think a dead body is hardly convincing evidence that you're not a murderer," she said humorously. "This way, you'll be able to walk away from all of this as a free man. Pettigrew will be sent to Azkaban, and you can live your life in a manner of your choosing. That's a better form of revenge than murder, wouldn't you agree?"

He didn't respond verbally, but judging from the way he relaxed, like a weight had been lifted from him, he did agree.

"You know, Harry," Sirius said, "I don't know if anyone's told you before—you must have been confused earlier—but I'm you're godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," Harry replied.

"Well… your parents appointed me your guardian," Sirius said detachedly. "If anything happened to them…" he paused, as though he was expecting Harry to say something. "I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle. But… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you want a… a different home…"

"What—live with you?" Harry said, his head hitting a protruding rock. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," Sirius amended. "I understand. I just thought I'd—"

"Are you mad?" Harry said, his voice suddenly as hoarse as Sirius'. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Sirius stopped moving to face Harry, halting the line. "You want to? You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" Harry said.

Moon could only see the shadowy outlines of the people in front of her due to the darkness of the tunnel, but it wasn't hard to imagine Sirius grinning at the response. Harry would be smiling like mad as well, finally being able to leave the Dursleys behind.

It was twilight by the time they left the passageway. Crookshanks ran ahead, freezing the Whomping Willow once again before darting off towards the castle. Sirius climbed outside and helped them out of the passageway one by one. Moon levitated Pettigrew's unconscious form out of the hole. Harry went over to where he had dropped the Invisibility Cloak, picking up the length of fabric and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Bit past curfew, isn't it?" he remarked, a mischievous glint in his green eyes. "Hermione's probably pacing a hole in the floor, worrying because we're not back."

"Let's hope she doesn't faint when we tell her what we've been up to," Moon replied, a smirk settling on her face.

The walk up to the castle was more enjoyable than the passageway. The air was just beginning to turn cool, and a light breeze had picked up to help it along. The four of them were walking shoulder to shoulder, with Dawn and Moon on the outside, Sirius standing closer to Dawn and Harry next to Moon. The grounds were empty of people, so no one was around to stop them. Moon twirled her wand mindlessly, accidently sending Pettigrew into a partial somersault before she corrected it.

"That would've been unfortunate," she laughed. "Or maybe an improvement. Should I hold him upside-down for the rest of the way?" she joked, looking at the others. Both Harry and Sirius had slowed down their walking, falling a few steps short of the two girls. "Harry?"

"What's the matter?" Dawn asked them. "Are you feeling alright?"

They were both turning pale; their eyes beginning to gloss over. Sirius was in a worse state than Harry; his limbs were shaking and his breathing was shallow.

"Can you hear me?" Dawn said, becoming increasingly worried. "Talk to me—Sirius—Harry—"

Moon looked around, and she too became pale at what she saw.

Dementors. At least fifty of them, forming clouds with each other and drifting down towards the group of humans. Harry was starting to tremble; Sirius was having trouble standing; Moon—

Felt nothing.

"This isn't right," she muttered. "I'm supposed to be reliving my worst memories now. Why am I not affected?"

"As interesting as this phenomena is, we have these two to worry about," Dawn said, not looking ruffled by the presence of the Dementors either. "Is there some way to get them to leave?"

"The Patronus Charm, but I don't know it—Harry does, though," Moon said. With her free hand, and a mumbled apology, she took a fistful of his hair and tugged it as hard as she dared.

" _Ouch!_ "

"Come on, Harry, you've been training all semester for this," she said hurriedly. The Dementors had slowed down, confused by their lack of effect on the two women, but they were still getting closer. "Use the charm, just like you did at the game."

He nodded, his cheeks regaining a bit of colour. He raised his wand, stretching it out towards the Dementors.

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," he said, his voice shaking. " _Expecto Patronum._ "

A few measly wisps of light poured from the tip of the wand, but nothing followed.

"You can do this," Moon said. "Just stay happy; you have so much to look forward to now, you get to live with Sirius."

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," he repeated. Not even a glimmer of light. Moon saw Sirius stumble, clutching his head; Dawn caught him before he hit the ground. "Moon, I don't think—"

"You can do this," she said, stressing every word. "You did it wonderfully at the match, your Patronus was brilliant—it's a stag, did you know that? Like your dad was."

She had found the right words. Harry raised his wand again, his emerald eyes determined.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A stag appeared, its form unwavering and bright. It charged at the Dementors, sending them reeling back, shooting into the sky to get away from the radiant guardian. Harry drew a deep breath as the effects of the Dementors left him; Sirius was standing again, one hand around Dawn's shoulder, his eyes glued to the Patronus.

"Prongs?" he said so quietly that Moon nearly missed it.

The castle doors, a scant twenty feet away from them, burst open. Dumbledore was out on the grounds in a second, followed by McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Snape, all of them staring after the retreating Dementors.

"What on earth were you—" McGonagall began, only to be stopped short when she took in the sight of the five of them; one of them a wanted criminal, another a supposedly dead man. The other teachers froze when they caught sight of Sirius. Snape was barely containing his fury. Dumbledore, on the other hand, merely looked contemplative.

"Hello, Professors," Moon said cheerfully, tilting her wand so that Pettigrew's face was in full view of the teachers. "It seems that there's been a slight misunderstanding regarding Peter Pettigrew's death. Mind if we go inside for a talk?"


	33. Exchanges

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.**

 **Chapter Thirty Three: Exchanges**

It went as Dawn predicted; the Ministry had to concede to the fact that Sirius Black was innocent of the crimes he had been accused of.

They tried, desperately, to find a flaw in his story to exploit, but were unable to do so after an hour's worth of interrogation in the hospital wing. They withheld Veritaserum from him, saying that it couldn't be used to prove a person's innocence—too risky, as those who were well-versed in Mind Magic and Dark Arts were able to resist the potion's effects. They couldn't find a reason not to give Peter Pettigrew a dose of the Truth Potion, however, and were forced to do so at Dawn's suggestion. When the Sinnoh Champion revived him with a tap of a Lunar Wing, kept on a pendant underneath her dress, and the Aurors started interrogating him, the man confessed everything. Pettigrew admitted to being the Secret Keeper for the Potters, to being a spy for Voldemort, and to faking his own death. By the end of it, Cornelius Fudge was flustered, the Aurors had left to escort Pettigrew to a temporary warded cell at the Ministry, and the four of them—Sirius, Harry, Dawn, and Moon—were left sitting on four separate hospital beds with half-eaten chocolate bars.

"Not that it isn't fun watching you chasing your tails trying to find a reason to send Sirius to Azkaban again," Dawn said pleasantly, her leg now wrapped in bandages even though most of the damage had been healed by Madame Pomfrey, "but I think we can all agree that you have no case here, especially after Peter Pettigrew's confession."

Fudge was twisting his bowler hat in his hands, his face tinging pink. "Sirius Black is an illegal Animagus; that's a crime worth six months in Azkaban."

"He's already paid for that crime and then some," Dawn said.

"He—broke out of Azkaban, wasted Ministry resources…"

"Given that he's innocent and never had an official trial, it could be argued that he was perfectly within his rights to leave Azkaban," Moon said. "Besides, I think he would have been glad if the Ministry's resources hadn't been 'wasted' chasing after him."

"Would have made things easier," Sirius remarked. Fudge's face was now fully pink.

"The _Daily Prophet_ is going to have a field day if he's pardoned… a man sent to Azkaban over a little mix-up…"

"Is that what it's called nowadays?" Moon said. "I could've sworn the term was 'gross miscarriage of justice.'"

"Now, now," Dawn said. "There's no need to get snippy, Moon. After all, Minister Fudge is correct; the press is going to be in a frenzy over this… but then again, they'd be out for blood if word got out that Sirius is sent back to prison just for show… and with so many witnesses who heard the true story…"

Dawn looked over at the teachers, who for the most part had been silent during the interrogation. "None of you wish to see the Ministry make such a colossal mistake a second time around, do you?"

"Absolutely not," McGonagall answered. Sprout and Flitwick had similar sentiments, but Snape only grimaced before exiting the hospital wing. He had been scowling throughout the interrogation, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. If it wasn't for the fact that Dumbledore was watching him, Snape would have hexed Sirius the minute he sat down.

"Now, on the other hand, if you act appropriately, Minister, this might reflect well on you," Dawn continued. "You weren't the one who sent an innocent man to Azkaban without a trial, after all. If you set one up for him now… show everyone that he is guiltless, give him an official pardon in front of the Wizengamot along with appropriate compensation, and sentence Pettigrew at the same time… why, I think that would be rather generous of you, fixing the Ministry's past mistakes. I don't think anyone could find fault with you then."

Fudge chuckled, his face losing its redness. "The press will find anything if they want it to be there."

Despite his remark, it was clear that Dawn was swaying him.

"We can work out the fine details in the morning," she said. "For now, I think we all need to rest."

Fudge bobbed his head in a nod and left the hospital wing.

"He bought into that without hardly a word of disagreement," Moon said, staring at Dawn with awe. "How do you do that?"

"Persuasive techniques I shall pass onto you one day," Dawn said. "I wasn't rushing the Minister, though; we all need to get some sleep."

"I understand that is has been a trying day for everyone involved," Dumbledore said, garnering the attention of everyone in the room, "but there are still a few matters I would like to go over with you, Sirius, and preferably with you as well, Dawn."

"And what about us?" Moon asked, breaking off a piece of chocolate with her fingers. She hadn't bothered to tell Madame Pomfrey that she felt fine; she wasn't going to turn down free chocolate.

"For the night, I would like you both to head to the Gryffindor common room," the headmaster answered. "I believe your other friends are still up and worried about where you've been."

Moon stayed on a couch in the Gryffindor common room that night, falling asleep shortly after she finished describing what had happened to Hermione and Ron, although Harry told most of the story himself; she just added her perspective when needed. Ron and Hermione had question after question to ask, and over time, their initial hesitance to the idea of Sirius Black being innocent was replaced as they realized what it meant for Harry; freedom from the Dursleys. Moon drifted off to sleep when they started imagining what house he'd move in to.

She woke up early the next morning. A blanket had been tucked around her shoulders, and another one had been rolled up and placed under her head. Moon got up, stretched, and went over to the entrance. She left the common room before anyone could find her sleeping there.

The Alola Champion wandered through the halls, taking in the sight of the empty castle. In the early morning, it was much like it had been when she was the only student, spending her days being tutored in preparation for the year and her nights wondering when she'd get to go home. With her departure approaching, she should have been ecstatic to be going home again. She was happy, but it was tainted by a lingering sense of gloom. She had liked learning about magic; she wouldn't be able to continue studying, not with her work as champion. She could learn from textbooks, but it wouldn't be the same.

Her wandering led her to the hospital wing. Its sole occupant, Dawn, was lying awake on the same bed as before, a book on magical law propped open in front of her.

"You are up early," Dawn said flatly, her eyes glued to the pages.

"Well, so are you," Moon said. She sat on the edge of Dawn's bed, careful to avoid her injured leg. "What's got you studying at this hour?"

"Dumbledore and Fudge," the Sinnoh Champion answered, flipping a few pages. "Dumbledore was wondering how the two of us managed to avoid the effects of the Dementors. I've been trying to come up with a working theory."

"And?"

"It's Mesprit's doing," Dawn said. "Back when I asked for your help investigating the abilities and limitations of the Spirit Trio, you were subjected to having your emotions manipulated, as was I."

"We were giggly and dizzy and exhausted for a week," Moon said.

"Mesprit's ability to control a person's emotions is similar to that of a Dementor, but it has a wider range and higher potency. I was testing the limits that week, and it might have, in a sense, numbed us to the Dementors."

"So we're practically immune?"

"Precisely."

Moon hummed. "Think I could herd them like sheep?"

"I wouldn't try it—you could still lose your soul," Dawn said, turning to another page.

Moon looked at the bed next to Dawn's, which had been occupied when she'd left during the night. "Where's Sirius?"

"He's been moved to a Ministry cell and put under Auror surveillance."

"Is that why you're reading some dusty old law book?"

Dawn nodded. "The trial is going on this evening, but the minister's already set out a list of things to give Sirius as reparations. There's a large sum of Galleons, naturally, as well as his record being wiped, but Fudge is planning on 'offering' him a month-long stay at St Mungo's."

"What? Why?"

"It's supposedly a part of the package," Dawn said with a sigh, pointing at a section in the book. "And I'm afraid there's little I can do to convince him otherwise; there's some older laws regarding overturned convictions that were put in place over a hundred years ago. Even if Sirius' case is unprecedented, it's still bound by whatever law the Ministry is aware of—and I don't think Fudge will retract it. Imagine the outcry if people heard someone who'd been exposed to Dementors for twelve years went unchecked. They want to make sure he's physically fit and able before he rejoins society… and I can't argue with that; he's in a poor state."

"What about Harry, then?" Moon asked. "He was so happy about getting to live with Sirius."

"Harry will return to his relatives until Sirius can retrieve him, Dumbledore was insistent on that," Dawn said. "There's some protection around the place involving blood. Harry is safe as long as he remains with his relatives for part of the year, every year."

"How long?"

"A minimum of seven days; one week out of an entire year. Dumbledore says that it's preferable that he stays there the entire summer, but circumstances usually dictate otherwise."

"One week only," Moon said. "And you are making trips here, yes?"

"A few, but—are you asking to take him with us?"

"Just until Sirius is set up here," Moon said.

"And Harry will agree to this?"

"He hates his relatives. I think he'll agree."

"What about Dumbledore? He has a lot of say when it comes to Harry's placement; it took him half the night to convince Sirius to have him stay there for one week over the summers."

"I don't think he'll be that hard to convince, either."

The twinkle that appeared in his eye when she told him her idea that morning after breakfast confirmed it.

"I have no objections if you're willing to invite Harry to stay with you for a portion of the summer; I do believe he'll be glad to go with you," Dumbledore said. "I must ask you to wait a week at the very least, but Dawn has explained that to you already."

She wondered how he came to that conclusion.

"There's one matter I'd like to run by you, given that you will no longer be a student after today," he said, pulling an envelope from his sleeve. "A competition between the three European wizarding schools has been set to take place during the next school year. There's a small rumour that you and the other champions will be involved—but that is still to be decided," he amended, nodding towards the envelope. "I've gathered some information on the competition. I want you to look through the letter when you return home, and preferably send a response when you're finished."

Moon took the envelope and put in in her bag. "Thanks, Professor."

"And thank you, Moon, for your help last night," he said. "I dare say that you helped save a number of lives last night. This is the sort of thing that would earn you points… but I suppose you'll—"

"Give the points to the Ravenclaws, sir," Moon said. "I've heard that I'm close to being one."

Moon found Harry resting near the lake along with Hermione and Ron. He had already heard that he needed to return to the Dursleys. When she told him her idea to bring him to Alola, his eyes lit up like stars. She didn't need to hear a verbal confirmation; she knew what his answer was.

Dawn had left the hospital wing to wrap up some of her dealings at the Ministry, leaving behind a message that Moon should begin packing, as they were going home that evening. Cleaning the guest room of her things took the better part of the morning. Rotom was of no help, as he pelted her with questions as to where she'd been the previous night. Saying she had been in the Gryffindor common room added fuel to the proverbial fire, and the pokédex did not cease chattering until she went over every detail of how she, Harry, and Dawn had brought a supposed mass murderer up to the castle along with his still-living victim. By the time the story ended, the room had been emptied of her belongings.

"It's been nearly a year since I arrived here," Moon said, looking around the room. It was supposed to be a temporary place to stay; it had eventually become a retreat in its own right, one she most likely wouldn't see for some time.

"It'zz been ten months, give or take," Rotom said.

"Thanks for the correction," Moon muttered, holding her bag towards the machine. "Are you riding with me or not?"

Rotom floated into the bag with minimal complaining.

Hogwarts was virtually empty of students. The few that hadn't gone to Hogsmeade to enjoy being free of their exams were spending the day outside in the warm summer sun. Moon found herself wandering through the halls aimlessly, soaking in the atmosphere of the old school before she had to leave. She decided that one of the first things she had to do when she got home, after seeing her mother and her friends, was write a letter to her father and ask him to explain, thoroughly, what had been going through his mind when he decided to not tell her about magic.

The sound of someone rummaging through a desk caught her attention. Moon stopped in front of Lupin's office and peered inside. The door had been left wide open, and the professor, looking frazzled, was opening and shutting the drawers of his desk. His suitcase was sitting on the top of the desk, newly patched and nearly full.

"Missing something, professor?" she called out. His eyes moved from the contents of the drawer to her, and a half-smile graced him.

"Moon," he said, his voice gravelly from being drugged for half a day. "I don't suppose you borrowed anything from my office the other day?"

"Just a spare piece of parchment."

He was fighting the urge to actually smile, she could see it from the far side of the room. "A regular piece of parchment. For what?"

"Harry asked to borrow some from me, and I was on my way to see him. I promise I'll return some later."

"I don't think that will be necessary," he said, closing the drawer slowly. "He'll find more use for it than I will."

There was a certain tiredness in his voice that made her pause.

"Something the matter, professor?" she asked hesitantly. He moved to shake his head, but then stopped, sighing heavily.

"You aren't obligated to call me professor anymore. I handed in my resignation to Dumbledore this morning."

" _What?_ " she yelped. " _Why?_ You like teaching, why give it up now?"

"An Auror informed me this morning that Sirius Black had been brought into Ministry custody after being found on Hogwarts' grounds… alongside Peter Pettigrew," he said, bitterness seeping into the last name. "After twelve and a half years of believing Sirius to be a traitor and Peter to be dead, all it takes is one visitor and two extraordinarily danger-prone students to overturn those convictions."

The back of her neck heated up; clearly the Auror had gone into more detail than others would have.

"So what? Everyone else is hearing the same story; I don't see Professor McGonagall quitting."

"No one else was as close to Sirius as I was," he said. "I should have said something earlier, should have looked into the situation more… but I was overwhelmed with grief at the deaths of my friends, and from his 'betrayal'. It was easier to try and keep my distance from anything having to do with my old life. I was wandering from place to place, barely making ends meet but refusing to return here so soon after that Halloween night. The only reason I took this job was because I felt responsible for Sirius' escape—I knew about his Animagus form and never said a word to Dumbledore."

"Sirius said that he, Peter and James all became Animagi for your sake," she said, closing the door behind her to hinder eavesdropping. The castle may have been close to empty, but she wasn't taking chances.

Lupin nodded in confirmation, fiddling with the latch of his suitcase. "It made things easier then, when I transformed. They were safe as animals, and they kept me from biting or scratching myself too much. We were reckless, and we went from staying in the Shrieking Shack, where I had been brought to transform, to wandering around the school grounds. I never attacked anyone, so I was able to justify it back then as harmless fun. But I didn't confess this to Dumbledore, not after he went out of his way to accommodate me. I couldn't justify breaking his trust twice, first by allowing my friends to become Animagi and then by disregarding the rules set for me. And so I kept my mouth shut. Even when Sirius broke out, I convinced myself that he did so using Dark Magic, and being an Animagus had nothing to do with it."

"Good thing you didn't," Moon said, drawing a surprised look from her brother. "Otherwise he might have been found and Kissed before Pettigrew got caught."

A thoughtful expression crossed his face before he shook his head again. "I can't excuse my behaviour with what might have happened."

"And you shouldn't condemn yourself with what you think you should have done," she said.

Lupin ran his fingers over the scratched handle of the suitcase, and then pulled it shut. "I understand that. But I can reflect on my actions and make judgements on them. Sirius will need some help after his trial, and I want to be there for him. Being a professor will take up too much of my time once September rolls around. And, thanks to the Nihilego Draught, I will be able to take on whatever job I please when he no longer needs me around. Staying here just because I like the job would be selfish on my part. I don't want to make the same mistakes I did twelve years ago and stay away to spare my own feelings rather than help my friend. Even if he wants nothing to do with me, I need to do something to apologize for what I left him to. I won't be able to forgive myself otherwise."

He hoisted the suitcase off the desk with both hands and went over to the door, passing by Moon. He stopped as he reached for the door handle, as if he had remembered something important.

"I almost forgot," he said, a small smirk appearing. "Thank you for dealing with Fenrir Greyback last summer. And Healer Fawley says thank you for your help."

Lupin exited the office, leaving Moon alone. She stood there for several seconds, turning her head towards the ceiling and releasing a slow sigh.

" _I need to do something to apologize_ ," she muttered under her breath. "Arceus, what a self-sacrificing dork."

The remainder of her time at Hogwarts was spent saying goodbye to the people she had met. Some like Draco only wished her well, with one or two of them offering her a handshake. Others like Lavender started crying, and Moon reassured them that she would be returning eventually. She met Harry, Ron, and Hermione just before she left for the Ministry, their goodbye consisting of a promise to see each other again before too long. She stepped into the carriage that would take her to Hogsmeade, where a Ministry car would be waiting for her. Moon watched the castle get smaller and smaller as the carriage headed towards the town.

She'd miss it.

The car ride was a blur, and when Dawn guided her down into the Ministry's atrium, Moon was too excited to take much notice of the swarms of people passing them by or the decorations of the grand building. They were flanked by guards that followed them down through the lesser-known corridors of the Ministry and into the room where the archway was.

It was as Rotom said; the arch was tall and entirely composed of metal, with Muggle wires attached to various places and hooked up to modified generators. A faint blue glow came from inside the arch, signalling that it was active and ready for transport.

"The gateway between worlds," Dawn said, gauging Moon's reacting. "Are you ready to test it?"

Moon nodded, her eyes never leaving the mechanical marvel. "Ready as I could be."

Dawn smiled gently, and went forward into the arch. She vanished the second she met the blue light. Moon took a deep breath and followed her, knowing that she was exchanging one home for another, and wished that one day she could live in-between them without worry.


	34. Epilogue

**I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.**

 **Epilogue**

The skies of Alola hadn't changed over the year she was missing. The stars hung in the same places that Moon remembered them being, even if they were dimmed by the city lights. The familiarity soothed her.

It had been night by the time Dawn and Moon arrived in Alola, in the city of Hau'oli. Moon had rushed outside within seconds, savouring deep breaths of the sea air. She rejected Dawn's offer to walk her home, choosing to head down Route 1 by herself.

She placed her shoes in her bag, walking barefoot along the dirt road in her Hogwarts uniform. Her wand was snugly tucked into her skirt and hidden by her robes. Rotom was still in her bag, sleeping to pass the time.

The trainer's school was deserted, save for the few offices that were still lit by teachers grading papers well into the night. Further down the road was a large house, its own windows shining from the lights inside of it. Moon beamed at the sight and started jogging, and then running, to her home.

She was breathless when she reached the door. She knocked twice, then twice more, and the door opened up. Her mother stood frozen in the threshold for all of three seconds before crushing her in a teary embrace.

"You're back," her mother wept into her hair, "thank the guardians you're back."

Moon coaxed her mother inside the house, and the older woman regained her composure, going into the kitchen to make something to drink. The young champion curled up on the couch, affectionately scratching Meowth's head when he followed her. Her mother handed her a steaming mug of cocoa and sat down beside her, hands wrapped around her own mug and eyes expectant.

As Moon talked about learning magic, about her father's past, and about the chaos that culminated in her finding a dead man and an escaped criminal the previous night, she kept a careful eye on her mother's reactions. She wasn't surprised or shocked by anything Moon was saying, except for the part about the criminal, but even that reaction was dulled by a careful, calculated stare.

"You knew about this already," Moon said. Her mother nodded, taking a long sip from her half-empty mug.

"It would be weird for me to not know," she replied. "I never thought it was Espeon's work that made things float or whatever. Lyall talked about being a wizard before, though he never remembered it."

"What do you mean?" Moon asked.

"Around a month before you were born, Lyall went out with some of his coworkers for the night. He came home, drunk off his ass, and babbling about whatever came to mind. He started on about his life as a wizard, his previous wife and his son. He was freaked that something would happen to you like his first child—that someone would attack you and make your life a living hell."

She took another sip of cocoa. "He woke up the next morning with a hangover and no idea what he said to me. I tried to keep dropping hints over the years that I knew something, but by the time he caught on we were writing up the divorce papers. Should have figured it out after I named you, in my opinion."

Moon stared at her mother, her brow furrowing. "What?"

"Your name," her mother said. "Lyall mentioned his son had some nickname—Moony, I think—so I shortened it and wrote it down as your name." She smirked. "Lyall nearly had a fit, but it was too late to switch by then, so—"

"Wait," Moon said, her face turning pale. "Are you saying you named me after _Remus Lupin_?"

* * *

His new form was… interesting to say the least. Better than wandering from animal to wild animal, leaving behind a trail of bodies. Even though this man was not a wizard, he did not possess the gaping, sucking sensation that came with Muggles. The magic that came along with him wasn't drained or tainted by his new body, nor did it mix like it did with the previous wizard that once hosted him. It just sat there, like water pooling on a flat surface.

It had been easy to overtake the man's physical form, but his mental state was another matter entirely; his thoughts were a howling wind against his own, speaking of what must have been an amalgamations of the best Muggle science and the most profound magic studies, stuff that would only be whispered about in the Department of Mysteries between fellow Unspeakables.

He spoke of souls. Of what power they held. Of how ripping them from people rendered them as incapable, unthinking but manageable beings.

The man had once tried to destroy the very concept of a human soul. Create a new world where morality was unnecessary, memories were pointless, free will was nonexistent and emotions were a thing of the past.

He thought such an ideal was self-destructive. There was nothing to be gained from it, if everyone went around mindlessly surviving. There would be no point in anything after that. Everything would be meaningless.

But he did have one point that made him ponder for days on end.

If souls were such a powerful driving factor…

Well, he'd have to start repairing his.

* * *

 _ **Fin**_

* * *

 **That is the end of The Forgone Trial. Or at least, this specific portion of it.**

 **I've technically been writing fanfiction for several years now, but this story was the first one in a long while that I felt was worth posting. I had been writing it for a few months before I put the first chapter up, and at that point I had planned enough of the story that I thought, "Yeah, I'll be able to finish this."**

 **I always wanted to read a story where a new character changed the end result of PoA, but could never find one. There were stories with new characters that followed the canon storyline, and there were stories that deviated from canon but only had the main characters. That desire, coupled with the fact that I had gotten a copy of Pokémon Sun, resulted in the longest story I've written to date.**

 **I am planning on a sequel, but so far I haven't been able to write much. I've deleted starter sentences, starter paragraphs, and even a 1000+ word prologue because nothing felt good enough. I do have an outline and a solid first chapter ready, but I want to have more of the story written out before I begin posting it. No idea when that's going to be.**

 **I am also planning on doing some short one-shots related to The Forgone Trial, such as different POV scenes, silly blooper scenes, etc., although I have no idea when I'd be able to post those either.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. It means so much to me, and I hope you've enjoyed reading The Forgone Trial as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **-silver rosebud**


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